
a i»*Ke««P>3SW> SKR 




• V»X\VVvS.«\>0v‘\\\V.\* . . .WhWWv a\\\\>NSvV . ..->•* \\V\^vV>'\v\V' v * 















Class T Z. 7 
Rnnk , S ^ % 
Gopightlf .C£n 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 






The Captain Becky Series 


CAPTAIN BECKY’S MASQUERADE 

















* 






















. 





















4 







































* 





' 


























































































































































. * 






















































































































A 










Captain Becky’s 
Masquerade 


BY 

Margaret Love Sanderson 



The Reilly & Britton Co. 
Chicago 



Copyright, 1912 
by 

The Reilly & Britton Co. 


Captain Becky’s Masquerade 


o 

£C!.A3IG8‘t9 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I A Letter from Lucile 7 

II Becky Takes a Journey 20 

III Schuyler to the Rescue 31 

IV Resteasy Farm 43 

V At the Races 55 

VI Becky Evens Up 67 

VII A Near-Marooning 80 

VIII Becky's Dukerin 93 

IX Becky Secures an Interview 105 

. X Becky Becomes a Reporter 117 

XI Disaster 129 

XII Oil on the Waters 141 

XIII Venetian Night 152 

XIV A New Acquaintance 164 

XV Lewis on the Job 176 

XVI A Ride in the Hills 188 

XVII The Haunted House * 201 

XVIII 4 4 Where's Becky I” 215 

XIX A Rescue 229 



CAPTAIN BECKY’S MASQUERADE 

CHAPTER I 

A LETTER FROM LUCILE 

‘ ‘ Marjorie ! Postman ’s coming ! 1 1 

‘ 6 Right down, mother dear.” 

And right down she was, dancing into the 
library where her mother sat peering out of the 
bay window. Clasping an arm around her daugh- 
ter^ waist, Mrs. Beckwith glanced at Marjorie 
with happy content in her eyes. A very different 
Marjorie this was from the thin, weakly girl who 
had departed for Florida the preceding winter! 
Now her cheeks were flushed with health and the 
sheer happiness of living. But her face had not 
lost that delicacy of contour that was its greatest 
charm, and which was accentuated by the golden- 
brown hair that rippled over her forehead. 

i ‘ Here he is !” 

Marjorie darted to the front door, greeted the 
postman with a cheery ‘ ‘ Good morning ! ’ ’ and re- 
turned to the library with three letters in her 
7 


8 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

hand. Glancing quickly at the superscriptions, 
she handed one to her mother and laid the second 
aside, while she began to turn the third over and 
over in her hands. 

‘ 4 There’s a letter from Mrs. Hatton to you,” 
she exclaimed, “and one from Lucile to me. And 
I haven’t replied to her last one yet! I wonder 
where she is! The postmark shows some place up 
in New Hampshire ” 

“Perhaps you had better open it and see,” 
smiled Mrs. Beckwith, who was already unfolding 
Mrs. Hatton’s letter. “How about the other 
one ? ’ ’ 

“Oh, just a note from Schuyler,” replied Mar- 
jorie carelessly. “He’s at school in New Jersey, 
you know.” 

With that she followed her mother’s advice and 
opened the letter from Lucile. A few months be- 
fore this Marjorie had quit school and left Chi- 
cago for a visit with her aunt in Florida. While 
there she had met the Egbert Hattons, of whom 
the mother, son and two daughters, a prominent 
eastern family, were spending a few weeks in 
Florida. Marjorie had a natural feeling of inde- 
pendence and, as her father was not rich and was 
just at that time under a financial strain, she had 
resolved to pay her own expenses and make a 
little money besides, if it were possible to do so. 


9 


A Letter from Lucile 

Accordingly, far from leading the humdrum hotel 
life with her aunt which she had looked forward 
to, Marjorie had chartered a small schooner and 
had taken the Egbert Hattons on a cruise of sev- 
eral weeks on the Indian River. They had met 
with many adventures, which have been described 
in another place, Marjorie had been well recom- 
pensed by the wealthy easterners and, better than 
all, she had found in them warm and very real 
friends. 

“Oh, mother !” broke out Marjorie as she 
scanned her four pages scrawled over in the fash- 
ionable large writing of Lucile Hatton, “guess 
what ” 

“Wait a moment,” smiled her mother, who was 
absorbed in her own letter ; 4 4 Mrs. Hatton is writ- 
ing to me about it too.” 

“It sounds too good to be really true,” sighed 
the girl as she laid down the letter. With her 
hands in her lap she stared out the window 
dreamily. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were 
tinged with more color than usual as she pictured 
to herself what those letters might mean to her. 

Lucile Hatton was a few months younger than 
Marjorie but her more extended social life and 
her father’s great wealth had made her in some 
ways much older than the Chicago girl. Despite 
Lucile ’s one-time tendency toward snobbishness, 


10 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

Marjorie liked her, and Lncile fully reciprocated 
the feeling. Then there was keen-eyed, genial Mr. 
Hatton; his wife, who was not unlike Marjorie’s 
own mother ; Schuyler, a year older than Lucile ; 
and finally little Ruth, who was only ten, but who 
had adopted “Captain Becky” as her particular 
chum and confidant. 

“Well, what do you think of it, mother!” asked 
Marjorie as Mrs. Beckwith laid down the letter. 
“Isn’t it just too splendid for anything!” 

“Indeed it is! I’m so glad, dear! And Mrs. 
Hatton is really sincere, too. What does Lucile 
say!” 

“Here, we’ll trade letters. But I know it’s too 
good to be true, mother ! Oh, dear, if only I could 
go and take you with me — away from this hot old 
place ! ’ ’ 

Mrs. Beckwith smiled in response as she took 
Lucile ’s letter and held it up. The Hattons had 
nicknamed Marjorie “Captain Becky,” and so 
Lucile addressed her. After a few inconsequen- 
tial lines the letter read : 

“But here’s what I want to say, Becky dear. 
We’re all up here in New Hampshire at father’s 
new cottage — that is, all except Schuyler. He’ll 
be here next week when school is out. It ’s simply 
heavenly up here among the mountains! We’ve 


11 


A Letter from Lucile 

got heaps of ponies and a race track, and Snnapee 
Lake is only ten miles away and — Oh, ever so 
many things! 

“Now listen hard! It’s the end of June now; 
why can’t you come and spend August with us? 
We have plenty of room; there’ll be a crowd over 
at the lake and a lot of our friends have farms 
and cottages all around here. I’ve just been 
talking to mother about it and she’s simply wild 
to have you. So is Ruth. Say you will, Becky! 

“Mother is going to write to your mother 
to-day, and I know she’ll not object. Clothes 
don’t matter a bit up here, so bring your oldest. 
We’ll go riding and motoring and do everything 
we can think of — and the farm is a perfect dear! 
You’ll fall in love with it right away.” 

4 ‘ She writes a very nice letter, dear, ’ ’ remarked 
Mrs. Beckwith, returning the pages to Marjorie. 
“It’s a splendid opportunity for you, and the 
mountain air will do you a great deal of good. 
You’ve been working pretty hard since you got 
home from Florida and a month away from every- 
thing ” 

“But, mother!” broke in Marjorie, suddenly. 
“I know it’s perfectly lovely, but how can I go? 
I’d have to have dresses, and the bare railroad 
fare would be so much — we just can’t do it, 
mother ! ’ ’ 


12 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

Mrs. Beckwith arose and, standing beside her 
daughter, again slipped an arm around the latter ’s 
waist. 

“Come, little girl, don’t be foolish!” she said. 
“The Hattons know you and like you and that is 
quite enough. They know perfectly well that you 
can’t afford to dress like Lucile and they won’t 
expect it. What is it Mrs. Hatton says?” She 
picked up the letter from Lucile ’s mother and 
read the last paragraph to Marjorie. 

“And don’t let Becky worry about clothes, 
please ! We all live very simply here at the farm. 
The young people have dances and parties occa- 
sionally but there is nothing formal at all. We 
practically live outdoors all the time and enjoy 
every minute of it. We all look forward to hav- 
ing your daughter spend a few weeks with us and 
I am sure she would enjoy herself. So she must 
not disappoint us!” 

“That’s all very well,” replied Marjorie after 
a minute. “But if you only knew how Lucile 
dresses, and Mrs. Hatton herself! I haven’t a 
single dress that would do for one of their dances, 
I know ! ’ ’ 

“Perhaps not, dear. But if they are the right 
kind of people they won’t care about that. They 
know that you can at least afford to look neat and 
clean, whether you can afford to wear hand-em- 


13 


A Letter from Lucile 

broidered waists or not. Mrs. Hatton didn’t say 
that, of course, but she implied it very clearly and 
sensibly, I think. No, they want you, and not your 
dresses, Marjorie. But we’ll not discuss this just 
now; wait till father comes home to-night and we 
can talk it all over quietly and comfortably. He 
used to live somewhere in New Hampshire when 
he was a boy, so he ’ll know what it ’s like. ’ ’ 

4 4 All right, mother!” laughed Marjorie, with 
one of her sudden changes of mood, as she kissed 
her and caught up the letter from Schuyler, “I’ll 
forget all about it until to-night!” 

She ran upstairs to her own room, which was 
small but kept with her accustomed neatness. 
Taking a hairpin from her dresser she quickly 
opened the envelope and drew out the letter. 

4 ‘ Dear Cap, ’ ’ she read with a smile, ‘ 4 * 6 1 was aw- 
fully glad to get your note! Why don’t you 
write me a real letter sometime? You haven’t 
got anything to do except read books and sew and 
I think you might write more than just a few 
lines ! I ’m mighty glad you don ’t talk about clothes 
like most girls do” — here Becky’s brow clouded 
for an instant — “for every time I get a letter 

from you I can see you standing at the wheel 
beside Captain Sam, while the good old Olivette 

slaps along. Say, we certainly had a dandy time 


14 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

down there, all right! Going back next winter? 

“School’s over this week. Three more exams, 
then I’ll dig out and join the folks up at dad’s 
farm. I suppose Lucile gives you all the news, 
though! Dad’s got a new cottage. He’s taken 
up the big car, and my chum, Billy Dustin, is 
going to his folks’ place at Lake Sunapee, near 
our place. Billy’s got a peach of a motor boat, 
Cap ! Wish you were going to take command of 
her! 

“Well, write me a good one next time, will you? 
Tell me all about what you’re going to do this 
summer. Don’t you want a good first mate for 
next winter’s cruise? 

“Yours truly, 

“Schuyler Hatton.” 

Marjorie tucked away the letter in the “corre- 
spondence drawer” of her dresser, then pulled out 
the three lower drawers. First pinning up a stray 
lock of hair, she leaned over and made a critical 
examination of the contents of the drawers. 

“You’re too old,” she decided, “and you’re all 
patched to death, and you don’t fit well around the 

neck. Now, you might do ” she held up a pretty 

embroidered waist, inspected it, then slapped it 

down in disgust “only you’re all stained with 

sea-water. You’re a fine lot of dresses to go visit- 


15 


A Letter from Lucile 

ing among millionaires ! ’ ’ Becky slammed the 
drawers shut suddenly in vexation, caught sight 
of her flushed face in the glass and laughed at her- 
self with a new light in her eyes. 

4 4 1 don ’t care ! They know perfectly well that 
I have to work for a living and that I can’t 
afford to have dresses like Lucile has ! Maybe I 
won’t go at all, but if I do I’ll go just as they know 
me. And I won’t put on any airs, either!” 

When Mr. Beckwith arrived home that evening 
he read the letters carefully at the supper-table. 
When they had adjourned to the library and had 
settled down for a comfortable discussion, he gave 
his opinion very decidedly. 

“I think it’s the best thing that ever happened 
to you, Marjorie!” he said slowly, Mrs. Hatton’s 
letter in his hand. “ Their place is near Cornish 
Flats, in Sullivan County. It’s right near the 
Vermont line and I lived in East Cornish until I 
was sixteen, so I know the country. You’d never 
find a more interesting spot in a long time. Wild 
and rugged, with queer little old towns lost in 

every valley, and houses that date back ” 

“But I’m not thinking about the country, 
father!” protested Becky. “What worries me is 
visiting such wealthy people and the expense of 
it ! Why, I suppose that the ‘ cottage,’ as they call 
it, would be a regular palace to me!” 


16 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

4 'No doubt it would,’ ’ nodded Mr. Beckwith. 
"But you can never gain anything worth while 
without paying for it, little girl. Look at old man 
Hobrough next door here. You can stick in one 
place all your life as he has done, know nothing 
except your own petty environment, never develop 
or broaden out a mite, and all because you’re 
afraid of investing a few dollars. You don’t want 
to come to be like that old chap, do you? I never 
knew you were stingy ” 

"I’m not stingy,” laughed Marjorie, who knew 
that her father did not mean all he said. "The 
only question is — will it pay me?” 

4 4 1 am sure it would, ’ ’ spoke up her mother de- 
cisively. 44 You’ll have a few weeks of very differ- 
ent life, my dear. You’re not the kind of girl to 
come back home discontented because you can’t 
have their luxuries all the time. If you were, I 
wouldn’t think of it for a minute. Yes, I feel sure 
it would be a good investment, as your father 
says.” 

4 4 That’s what it is,” agreed Mr. Beckwith, 
4 4 simply an investment. You have definitely de- 
cided, Marjorie, that you wish to be independent 
of my support. I appreciate that, for I think every 
girl should be able to support herself just as every 
boy should; but you’ve got to remember that in 
order to do so you must learn as much as possible 


17 


A Letter from Lucile 

of the world around you. This is a great chance 
for you to mix with a certain class of people whom 
you might not know otherwise. You’ll find plenty 
in them to like and plenty to dislike and you’ll 
come back very glad you went. 

“ Besides, the trip itself will be well worth 
while. You’ll enjoy yourself immensely up in that 
country; the air will be good for you and even if 
you come back broke it’ll pay. By the way, how 
much money have you on hand $ ’ ’ 

“I’ve got thirteen dollars left out of my sav- 
ings-bank account, which took me to Florida, and 
besides that I have one hundred and ten dollars 
left out of what I cleared from the Olivette,” 
replied Becky promptly'. “That makes just one 
hundred and twenty-three dollars. It doesn’t 
seem very much to go all the way to New Hamp- 
shire on and stay a month!” 

“Why, you’re a regular plutocrat!” laughed 
her father. “It won’t cost more than fifty dollars 
to take you there and back, which leaves you 
nearly seventy-five dollars for clothes. And don’t 
let dresses worry you, little girl. If you look as 
neat and pretty as you do right now I guess no 
one’s going to find any fault. These Hattons 
seem to be mighty sensible people and, besides, 
you can’t put on many frills up in that country 
or I miss my guess!” 


18 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“Well, I hope not,” assented Becky dubiously. 
“Anyhow, they know I haven't any frills to put 
on. They'd only laugh at me if I did pretend to 
have all the things I can't afford, so — I guess I'll 
go!” 

‘ 1 Good for you ! ' ' laughed her father, giving her 
a hug and a kiss. “You're all right, Captain 
Becky ! Now it'll be up to you, mother, to do some 
planning on dresses, eh V ” 

“No, it won't!” retorted Marjorie promptly. 
“Two or three plain white ones, just about like I 
had in Florida, will do. We've got a whole month 
to make them in, and I can buy a good ready- 
made heavy suit to travel in.” 

“You'll have to have one really nice dress, 
dear, ' ' added her mother. ‘ ‘ Remember that there 
will probably be parties and dances and all kinds 
of entertainments.” 

“Well,” admitted Becky rather dubiously, “I 
suppose I'll have to have a party dress pretty soon 
anyway. Still, I don't see why a plain white wash 
one wouldn't be quite good enough for any sum- 
mer resort.” 

“We can settle all that later,” smiled Mrs. 
Beckwith in reply. ‘ ‘ The main thing is to be sure 
that you're going.” 

“And I'm sure of that now,” laughed Becky 
happily. “I only wish that you could come with 


A Letter from Lucile 19 

me, mother dear, instead of sticking in this old 
city !” 

4 ‘ Oh, we ’ll get away, ’ ’ laughed her father. “We 
may run off for a couple of weeks while you’re 
gone. ’ ’ 

4 4 Well, I hope you will,” answered the girl, 
gathering up her letters. “Now I guess I’ll write 
to Lucile before we change our minds ! ’ ’ 


CHAPTER II 


BECKY TAKES A JOURNEY 

It was an eventful month that followed Becky’s 
decision and the days passed all too quickly, filled 
as they were with preparations. After a long 
discussion Becky and her mother decided that, 
besides the traveling suit, which would do for 
rough weather and trips, she would have to have 
a Peter Thompson — homemade, of course — one 
party dress, and a supply of simple white wash 
waists and skirts. Then the hat question came up 
and here Marjorie took a decided stand. 

“ It ’s no use, mother ! I ’ll fix up that old brown 
hat to go with the traveling dress and we’ll pick 
out a nice little toque down «t Field’s. Anyway, I 
guess I won’t wear a hat r ji.cii in fine weather.” 

“But a Peter Thompson — on a farm!” pro- 
tested Mrs. Beckwith. 

“I know,” returned Marjorie, “but then there’s 
a lake near there, you know, and anyway you can 
use ’em for tennis or house-dresses or ’most 
anything. ’ ’ 

So the materials were bought, a seamstress en- 
20 


21 


Becky Takes a Journey 

gaged and the work began. For three weeks 
Marjorie and her mother worked almost night and 
day, while on every chair and table were heaps 
of half -finished dress goods that nearly drove Mr. 
Beckwith crazy. 

“Why can’t yon folks keep yonr stuff in the 
sewing room!” he demanded one night as he 
pulled his tobacco from underneath a half-made 
P. T., and Becky made a mad rush to save the 
precious blouse from being dragged to the floor. 
“If this goes on much longer I’ll fit up a room 
in the barn ! ’ ’ 

1 1 I dare you to ! ” laughed his wife. ‘ ‘ Look out ! 
You’re pulling that lace off the ” 

“ Oh ! ” shrieked Becky as she rescued the filmy 
stuff. “You’ve spilled tobacco all over this 
lawn ” 

“That’s enough!” cried Mr. Beckwith hastily 
as he fled to the hall and seized his hat. ‘ 1 This is 
no place for me! Good night!” 

But he returned an hour later with a very effec- 
tual peace-offering in the shape of a quart of ice 
cream and promised to keep his tobacco pouch in 
his study thereafter on condition that Becky 
should keep his big chair free of dress material. 
The compromise was placed on a substantial basis 
by a freshly baked cake to match the ice cream 
and thereafter the lounging chair was kept clear. 


22 Captain Becky 9 s Masquerade 

“Oh, dear!” sighed Marjorie, three days before 
her departure, as she gazed on the bright new 
trunk and the pile of things to go into it. “I wish 
I could wear them all at once! I’ve never had so 
many fine things in all my life ! And how my bank 
balance has shrunk ! 1 9 

“Never mind that, dear,” smiled her mother 
cheerfully as she added to the pile the box which 
contained the light blue toque trimmed with silver 
a la Jeanne Maubourg. “No worrying over 
money this time! You are going to have a real 
vacation and enjoy every minute of it. By the 
way, whatever became of that funny boy you were 
telling us about — Lewis something ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Lewis Ahlswede ? ’ ’ laughed Becky as her mind 
went back to the “devil” on the Melbourne 
Times who had filled such a curious niche on 
the cruise of the Olivette . “I don’t know! Yes 
I do, too — I got a postal from him a month ago, 
don’t you remember? He was going north. The 
Hattons promised to find him something to do. 
Poor Lewis ! I hope he realizes some of his am- 
bitions. Well, how are we going to get all this pile 
packed in that little trunk?” 

“Three days left for that, Marjorie,” replied 
Mrs. Beckwith. “It’ll go in, never fear! Wait 
till father begins to make things fly!” 

“Good gracious!” exclaimed Becky in dismay. 


23 


Becky Takes a Journey 

i ‘ Not if I know it, mother ! No, indeed. I’ll pack 
up this trunk myself and you can help me, right 
now ! ’ ’ 

Thereupon Marjorie set to work with feverish 
energy and before Mr. Beckwith came home that 
evening the trunk was packed, locked and 
strapped, ready to be sent off. The next two days 
were spent in packing and repacking the suit case, 
whose contents were to last Becky on the three- 
days’ journey. More letters had been exchanged 
with Lucile and the details of the trip were 
complete. 

“You’ll be met in New York by Uncle Jim,” 
explained Mr. Beckwith, referring to his brother 
who lived in that city. “He ’ll put you on the New 
York Central and at Springfield, Massachusetts, 
you’ll have to change to the Boston and Maine. 
Here’s your through transportation to Windsor 
where the Hattons will meet you. ’ ’ 

“With their new car, I hope,” added Marjorie 
happily but just a trifle doubtfully. “You’d better 
write down all those changes and the time and 
everything, father!” 

“Here you are,” laughed her father, holding 
out a card. “Be sure and have Uncle Jim set 
your watch on for you — the time changes, you 
know. Are you sure you told Lucile what train 
you’d be on?” 


24 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“Why, no!” replied Becky. “I told her when 
my train left Chicago, though, so 99 

She was interrupted by a peal of laughter from 
her father and it took her fully a minute to 
realize the cause. She was rescued from her con- 
fusion by Mrs. Beckwith, however, who com- 
manded her husband to send a telegram at once 
with the missing information and, as no great 
harm had been done, Becky soon came to appre- 
ciate the joke herself. 

The New York Limited pulled out early Monday 
morning. With her grip safely bestowed under 
the seat and the porter attended to, Becky stood 
on the platform till the very last minute. Then, 
with a hasty kiss and a last wave, she sprang up 
the steps, and by the time she gained the window 
the platform had disappeared and the gray walls 
of the Twelfth Street Station were slipping past. 

Marjorie was well supplied with magazines and 
after removing her hat she settled down comfort- 
ably to enjoy herself. Her double seat was shared 
by a rather faded-pretty and washed-out looking 
woman, as Becky mentally described her after a 
glance. The woman was evidently not very well- 
to-do ; her clothes had been mended repeatedly and 
Becky caught more than one of their fellow trav- 
elers glancing at their section rather scornfully. 
However, she was soon too much interested in her 


25 


Becky Takes a Journey 

magazines to pay much attention to anyone else, 
and the morning passed off uneventfully, without 
a word having been exchanged between them. 

With the first call for luncheon Marjorie went 
forward to the dining car. When she returned to 
her seat she found the quiet little woman tossing 
a bag out of the window. 

‘ 4 Aren’t you going to the. diner V 9 she asked 
impulsively, and then stopped short, realizing her 
own lack of tact. 

“No,” smiled the woman rather faintly. “Pm 
only going to Detroit and it doesn’t matter.” 

They fell into conversation and Marjorie 
learned that her companion was rejoining her 
husband who had gone to Detroit in search of 
work; that she considered a Pullman a terrible 
extravagance and had been all her life, so it 
seemed to the girl, frightfully poor. Mrs. Simms 
was an uncomplaining woman but as little glim- 
merings of life-troubles sifted through her words 
Marjorie began to feel a great pity for her com- 
panion, mingled with a desire to help her in some 
way. 

They were nearly in Detroit by this time and 
Mrs. Simms placed her battered suit case on the 
seat. From it she took a very limited toilet travel- 
ing-set. Becky’s eyes widened as she thought of 
the neat, pretty little set that lay beneath her feet 


26 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

and, when the other woman went to the washroom 
as they flashed into the city, she acted on one of 
her impulsive ideas. 

Quickly opening her own suit case she took out 
her own toilet set, quickly extracted one or two 
really necessary articles and leaned over the other 
suit case. Hastily scribbling a word on her card, 
she slipped the rubber-wrapped case under a 
folded skirt, reclosed the battered grip and took 
up her magazine as Mrs. Simms returned. A 
hasty farewell and the “ washed-out woman” dis- 
appeared in charge of the porter. 

“I don’t care!” thought Becky, her cheeks 
flushed. “ Maybe it wasn’t nice, but I felt like 
doing it! It’s new and pretty and maybe it’ll 
make her feel better every morning to see it lying 
on her dresser. ’ ’ 

With which thought Becky buried herself again 
in a magazine and dismissed the subject. The 
weather was not unpleasantly warm but she was 
filled with despair at the dust and cinders which 
filled the car and made frequent washing neces- 
sary. She glanced at her waist that evening in 
dismay. 

“I’ve got a clean one in the valise,” she re- 
flected, “but I’m going to save that till I get to 
Windsor. Oh, well, this will do for New York, 


Becky Takes a Journey 27 

anyhow! It’ s a mercy that I picked out a bine 
suit to travel in.” 

She awoke next morning to find the train enter- 
ing the New York station. She dressed hastily 
and with a final pat at her hair pnt on her hat 
and rang for the porter. 

“Gracious!” she thought as she looked in the 
mirror, “I look horribly old with my hair on top 
and this veil ! I hope Uncle Jim will know me.” 

She had not seen her uncle for two years but 
she had barely reached the platform when he came 
striding up and greeted her with a hearty kiss. 

“My, you’re quite grown up!” he exclaimed as 
he held her off and looked her over with a twinkle 
in his eye. “I wasn’t sure it was you until I saw 
your initials on the suit case ! How ’s everyone ? ’ ’ 

“Fine,” laughed Becky, replacing her veil. 
“Are uncles always so — so nice?” 

“Of course” asserted Uncle Jim stoutly. 
“Especially when they have such attractive look- 
ing nieces to meet! Now, how long have you in 
town ? ” 

Becky produced her card and they found that 
she had an hour before her New York Central 
train left for Springfield. So the suit case was 
checked and for one delightful hour Becky was 
whirled through New York streets in a taxi, re- 
turning to the station barely in time to jump 


28 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

aboard and kiss her uncle good-bye — a formality 
which he strongly insisted on. 

“ You’ll have to spend at least a whole day with 
me on your way home ! ’ ’ he announced as the train 
began to move. ‘ ‘Be sure and let me know when 
you’re coming!” 

“I will. Good-bye!” called back Marjorie, and 
the first part of her journey was over. She found 
this train very different from the luxurious 
4 4 flyer” that had brought her from Chicago in less 
than a day, but she was enjoying herself im- 
mensely and cared very little for her surround- 
ings. She was still on board a Pullman but the 
other passengers were all drummers except for 
two boys who sat across the aisle from Becky. 

These two were full of animated talk on various 
subjects, intended to reach the ear of the pretty 
girl in the opposite section, so Becky discreetly 
retired behind her magazine. After several sly 
glances she decided that neither of the boys was 
bad-looking and that the red-haired one was posi- 
tively funny when he tried to be. She was sud- 
denly startled to find him bowing in an exagger- 
ated manner before her while his companion 
grinned from across the aisle. 

“I beg your pardon,” he said politely, looking 
with his merry blue eyes into Becky’s rather 


Becky Takes a Journey 29 

angry darker ones, “but I think you dropped 
this. ’ ’ 

And he held out a handkerchief which Becky 
recognized and accepted in no little confusion. 
But the red-haired boy was not through. 

“Pardon me again/ ’ and his eyes twinkled, 
“but — ah — could I help you — er — in any 
way ” 

Becky was half frozen up, when the sight of the 
second boy grinning covertly showed her that it 
was only a joke, and she promptly grew angry — 
although she didn’t show it in the least. Assum- 
ing her very sweetest smile as the red-haired chap 
stammered in his evident embarrassment and 
seemed just about to lose his nerve, she broke in : 

“Why, certainly. Bring me a glass of water, 
please.” 

“Ah — why, sure ! 9 9 Off dashed the boy, return- 
ing an instant later with a glass of water. Becky 
took it, drank and handed back the empty glass 
with a murmured word of thanks. Then she very 
decidedly picked up her magazine and hid her 
burning face, from view. She suddenly realized 
that she had acted in an extremely unbecoming 
fashion and her only excuse was the grin that had 
stirred her wrath. The two boys evidently felt 
the same way, for they disappeared shortly after 
and Becky saw no more of them — until later. 


30 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

At Springfield she had no trouble in making 
connections and the Boston and Maine took her 
into a very different country. The time flew past 
so quickly that Becky could scarcely realize that 
her journey was over when the conductor called 
out ‘ 4 Windsor ’ ’ and they flashed into a small city, 
beside the river, with the blue mountains in the 
distance. 

Standing in the car vestibule as the train 
stopped, Becky caught one glimpse of a tremen- 
dous blue touring car, waved her hand at a circle 
of familiar faces and, with an excited shout from 
a well-known voice in her ears, stepped off the 
car and was clasped in Lucile’s arms. The jour- 
ney was over. 


CHAPTER III 

SCHUYLER TO THE RESCUE 

They were all there except Mrs. Hatton. Ruth 
clung to “Captain Becky,’ ’ as Marjorie was now 
invariably known, with undisguised delight. 

“Well, well!” exclaimed Mr. Hatton as he 
shook hands, “you don’t know how good it is to 
see you. We’ve been looking forward nearly all 
summer to Captain Becky’s arrival.” 

Becky felt a little gulp in her throat at the 
hearty sincerity in his voice and turned to shake 
hands with Schuyler with a feeling of relief. She 
caught a glance of amusement from Lucile as the 
boy muttered something in confusion. Then Mr. 
Hatton gave her trunk checks to the chauffeur and 
they all entered the big car. 

“Oh, what a beauty!” cried Becky as she and 
Lucile and Ruth climbed into the tonneau. “I 
never saw a car like this one, never! Why, 
it’s—” 

“It’s an English car,” laughed Mr. Hatton. 
“Schuyler, you get up in front beside Louis and 
let me in the tonneau.” 


31 


32 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

Schuyler obeyed with a crestfallen face while 
Becky ’s trunk was securely strapped in place. 

‘ ‘ Does it fit all right, Louis ? ’ ’ asked Mr. Hatton, 
pausing to watch the operation. 

“Yes, m’sieu.” 

‘ ‘ V ery well. Go ahead . ’ 1 

6 ‘ I suppose you ’re just dying of hunger, ’ 9 chat- 
tered Lucile as they sped away silently and with- 
out a jar. “Why do you live away out west, 
Becky ? It must be awful to travel so far . 9 9 

“Not a bit of it,” laughed Becky. “Uncle Jim 
met me in New York but he forgot to get me any 
breakfast and I was too bewildered to think about 
it. I had luncheon on the diner coming up but I ’m 
quite ready for something more substantial, thank 
you! Get through your exams all right, 
Schuyler V 9 

“Sure!” Schuyler half twisted around in his 
seat. “Flunked geometry as usual but that don’t 
matter. Say, the fellows are just crazy to meet 
you ! 9 9 

“The fellows!” repeated Becky in surprise. 
< < Why, who ? 9 9 

“He’s talking about Billy Dustin and Jack 
Humphrey,” explained Lucile. “Billy is Schuy- 
ler’s chum and Jack’s his cousin. Why not call 
up and have them come over to-night, Sky?” 

“Don’t know ’bout that,” replied her brother 


33 


Schuyler to the Rescue 

dubiously. “They went down to the city Friday 
an’ maybe they aren’t back yet. I’ll call up 
anyhow. ’ ’ 

“Now tell us all about yourself,” commanded 
Mr. Hatton. “Billy and Jack will keep till later. 
What have you been doing since we saw you!” 

“Not very much,” confessed Becky. “I made up 
some school work I missed by going to Florida, 
that’s all. The rest of the time I’ve just been 
reading and sewing and loafing.” 

“Oh, dear!” sighed Lucile despairingly. “I 
wish I had time to read and sew. Why, until we 
came up here I never had a single minute. There 
was always the tailor or a party or a dance or a 
wedding or something that I had to go to. It 
seems perfectly dead up here.” 

“She’s gettin’ broke in to it now,” grinned 
Schuyler, refusing to be left out of the conversa- 
tion. “You ought to see her chasin’ around the 
race track with Bob Carmack. She beat him three 
out of four heats Saturday an’ she’s gettin’ a line 
on the singles cup over at the club — tennis, you 
know. ’ ’ 

“Race track!” Becky knit her brows. “Why, 
you don ’t mean ’ ’ 

“You’ll see,” chuckled Mr. Hatton. “I’m rais- 
ing some rather good ponies on the farm and we 
have a regular race track laid out behind the 


34 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

barns. Every week or so we have a meet, with 
prizes and all the rest of it. You ride, don’t 
you?” 

Now Becky had never been astride a horse in 
her life. But she refused to acknowledge it before 
Lucile and concluded that a pony might not be so 
hard to tackle after all. Her hesitation was 
ended by a questioning glance from Schuyler and 
she tossed her head with a laugh. 

‘ ‘ Oh, I guess I can make out all right. How far 
is it to the farm, Mr. Hatton?” 

“Only a mile farther on. It’ll be too dark to 
show you around to-day, but that can wait. ’ ’ 

In another two or three minutes they swept up 
to a high iron fence and arching concrete gate- 
way. From this a broad, graveled drive led 
through a grove of trees toward a large white 
house which stood on a little knoll above. As they 
approached it Becky gave a gasp, for in her wild- 
est dreams of what Lucile ’s “cottage” would be 
like she had not imagined this. 

The house was a large three-story building in 
colonial style, with pillars and portico in front. 
The gathering dusk added to its impressiveness, 
and lights were already shining from a score of 
windows as the car stopped beneath the portico 
with a blare of the horn. Before Becky had 
reached the ground she caught sight of Mrs. Hat- 


35 


Schuyler to the Rescue 

ton approaching to welcome her, and a portly, 
erect figure in livery just behind her. 

“Pm very glad indeed to see you,” said 
Lucile’s mother as she kissed Becky cordially. 
4 ‘You don’t know how we’ve been looking forward 
to this visit, my dear. Now, I suppose you want 
to go to your room? Dinner is at eight, you 
know.” Without pausing for Becky’s answer, 
Mrs. Hatton turned to the portly figure in the 
doorway. 

“James, have Miss Beckwith’s trunk taken to 
her room at once and call Briggs to attend her.” 

“Yes, madam,” replied the butler in a sepul- 
chrally respectful voice. Becky felt herself becom- 
ing rapidly bewildered as she followed Mrs. Hat- 
ton into the hallway, brilliantly lighted and 
decorated, with tapestries on the walls and rich 
eastern rugs. A butler on a farm ! And Briggs — 
surely it could not be 

But it was. In spite of Lucile’s arm around her 
Becky moved as in a dream up a broad flight of 
stairs and along a hallway. She felt herself 
stopped at an open door. As Lucile playfully 
pushed her in, Becky saw the most wonderful of 
rooms, all in white and gold with bird’s-eye maple 
furnishings and — Briggs ! 

There was no doubt about it. The neat, trim 
little woman who was opening her suit case and 


36 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

who hurried forward to take her hat and gloves 
was a maid. For a moment Becky submitted to 
being disrobed; then, just as the door shut, she 
regained her senses. 

“Lucile!” she cried desperately, conscious of 
impending tears. “Lucile ! Come back for a min- 
ute ! Quick ! 7 7 

Lucile popped back into the room and Becky 
threw her arms around the other girl’s neck. 

“Send that — that Briggs away, Lucile! I’ve 
got to say something to you ! ’ ’ 

Lucile obeyed the whisper and when the door 
closed behind the wondering maid Becky gave 
way, overwrought by her long journey and care- 
less of what the other would think. 

“I — I just can't , Lucile ! I’m not used — used to 
all these things — and I’m perfectly able to do 
things myself — and — and ” 

“Never mind, Becky dear!” soothed Lucile in 
perfect comprehension. “Now do stop crying or 
your eyes ’ll look just horrid. I ’ll help you myself 
if you’d rather.” 

“They’re all used to guests having such fine 
things,” replied Becky, whose outburst had re- 
lieved her immensely. “They’d laugh at my 
clothes and I’d feel uncomfortable all the time. 
Just let me be as I’ve always been; I’m not used 
to being waited on so much and — and I won’t 


Schuyler to the Rescue 37 

have it ! ” She ended up with a little stamp of her 
foot that drew a laugh from Lucile. 

i ‘ All right, Captain ! Now go and freshen up ; I 
hear your trunk coming upstairs. Here’s the 
bathroom, all your own. I’ll wait for you.” 

Becky fled with her hostess to the shelter of a 
tiny bathroom opening oft her room and Lucile 
left her there. Loosening her waist, Becky hastily 
dabbed at her face and removed the traces of 
tears. Then, freshened after her journey, she re- 
turned into the room at Lucile ’s cheery hail. 

1 ‘ Coast ’s clear, Becky ! Hurry up, now ! ’ ’ 

The men had unstrapped the trunk and Becky 
had only to unlock it and throw open the top. 

“ Here’s a plain white one,” she began, taking 
out the dress on top. “ Would this do?” 

“Oh, it’s a dear!” cried Lucile as Becky shook 
it out and held it up for inspection. “Just the 
thing ! Slip into it, quick now ! ’ ’ 

So, with Lucile assisting, Becky got out of her 
traveling suit and into the plain white dress. As 
she fastened her collar Lucile stood off in undis- 
guised admiration. 

“Why, Becky, it seems just made for you! Bid 
you get it in New York?” 

“Not much ! ’ ’ laughed Becky happily. ‘ ‘ I made 
it myself — mother and I did; that is, also the 


38 Captain Becky’ s Masquerade 

seamstress, only I designed it. Do you really like 
it, or is it just blarney V 9 

“ Blarney ?” echoed Lucile. “I should say not! 
There’s something about it, whether it’s the de- 
sign or the shoulders or what, that just seems to 
fit you and nobody else. Do you know, I believe 
that you have a positive genius. I wish you’d 
help with some of my dresses.” 

“I’d be glad to,” laughed Becky. “There! 
Now I’m all ready, thanks to you.” 

Arm in arm the two girls left the room. But 
Becky little imagined how important a bearing 
that conversation was to have on her future, as 
she descended the broad stairway with her friend. 

Becky had only time to glance around the big 
living room, full of comfortable leather-cushioned 
chairs with a large round table littered with maga- 
zines, when the stately James announced dinner. 
Once settled around the glittering table, the whole 
family combined to make the guest feel perfectly 
at home and succeeded so well that Becky soon 
forgot all about Briggs. 

“I called up Jack Humphrey,” announced 
Schuyler eagerly. “Billy was there with him — 
they just got in from the city. Jack said they’d 
come over in the car to-night, sure. ’ ’ 

1 t How far away is their place f ’ ’ asked Becky. 

“ ’Bout four miles down the line. Billy’s folks 


Schuyler to the Rescue 39 

have a cottage over at the lake hut he’s stayin’ 
with Jack just now. ’ ’ 

The meal passed oft gayly between stories of 
New York, tales of life on the farm and at Sunapee 
Lake and reminiscences of Florida and the 
Olivette . Then Mr. Hatton lit his cigar and they 
adjourned to the living room, which connected 
with the library. Lucile and Becky snuggled 
down into the depths of a big sofa and as they did 
so came four quick blares of a horn from without. 

‘ 4 There’s Dusty,” exclaimed Schuyler, hastily 
making for the door. “Never mind, James. I’ll 
let ’em in.” 

“Mother doesn’t like us to call him ‘ Dusty,’ ” 
explained Lucile as her brother vanished into the 
hall, “but we forget sometimes.” 

A moment later two grinning boys clad in gray 
dust-coats appeared in the doorway. At the sight 
of the first one Becky gave a gasp of dismay and 
shrank back; but Lucile pulled her up with a 
laugh. 

“Hello, boys! Miss Beckwith, this is Billy 
Dustin — Jack Humphrey, Miss Beckwith! There, 
— after that I guess you can stick to Dusty and 
Hump and Becky, in private. Why, what’s the 
matter 1 ’ ’ 

Becky had advanced with outstretched hand and 
an extremely innocent expression. That candid, 


40 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

open-eyed innocence was her court of last resort, 
because in the first boy she had recognized the 
red-haired hero of her train adventure, and his 
companion was the other. Billy’s confident grin 
had frozen into a horrified stare and Jack began 
to back abruptly toward the door when Lucile 
noticed the situation. 

“Why — why, I — I thought maybe we’d met — 
met before,” stammered Billy lamely as he took 
Becky’s hand. 

“I think you must be mistaken,” answered that 
young lady very coolly, smiling her sweetest. 
4 4 But I ’m very glad to meet you. And this is J ack 
Humphrey! Schuyler was telling us that you two 
returned from New York to-day; why, we must 
have been on the same train. ’ ’ 

4 4 Well, make yourselves at home, everybody!” 
commanded Mr. Hatton cordially when the two 
visitors had shaken hands all around and delivered 
their coats and caps to James. Billy’s grin had 
returned by this time, although J ack kept remark- 
ably silent and there was a glint in the eye of the 
red-haired boy that Becky did not like. It was 
explained when Billy’s blue eyes met hers with a 
glance of defiance. 

4 4 So you’re from Chicago!” he said. 4 4 Wasn’t 
there a western boy at school first semester, 
Jack!” 


Schuyler to the Rescue 41 

“I believe so,” and Humphrey’s eyes lit up as 
he comprehended. “He was from Chicago or 
Omaha or Denver or somewhere. I remember he 
flunked everything and got fired.” 

Becky gasped at this barefaced attack and be- 
fore she could reply Billy had hurried on. 

“Oh, well, you prob’ly didn’t know him any- 
how. Say, Hump an’ I had a peach of a blowout 
last week, Sky! We took Ted Herron and his 
folks down to the steamer — they went by the 
Mauretania , Lucile — an’ Ted missed the boat, so 
we went to the show. Real bangup play, too ; Sir 
Maxwell Hanson in ‘The Elect,’ just over from 
London. Did you ever see it, Miss — er — Beck- 
with?” 

Becky was furious, despite her wide-eyed ex- 
pression. Ruth had gone to bed; Mr. and Mrs. 
Hatton were oblivious of anything beneath the 
surface; Lucile was looking slightly puzzled but 
a dark flush was slowly creeping into Schuyler’s 
cheeks as he began to realize whither his chum’s 
remarks were tending. 

“Oh, no,” came Becky’s reply, sweet as ever, 
“I don’t think that they’d allow that kind of a 
play to be given in Chicago, Mr. — er — Dusty.” 

In the laugh that arose at her mimicry, Mrs. 
Hatton looked up in a rather peculiar manner. 


42 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

1 6 Billy Dustin, do you mean to say that you and 

Jack would go to see such a play ” 

“Why, Mrs. Hatton !” he protested in dismay. 

‘ ‘ The play was all right ! It — it ’ 9 

“Oh, I didn’t mean anything like that,” ex- 
plained Becky in her most innocent manner. “I 
meant that it wasn’t quite — well, intellectual 
enough for Chicago.” 

Billy glared, then his face relaxed into its usual 
grin and Becky knew that her shot had told. Just 
as he tried to reply, however, Schuyler jumped 
into the breach with a surprising question. 


CHAPTER IV 

RESTEASY FARM 

“What do you think Michigan ’ll do this fall, 
Dusty ?” 

‘ 6 Football ? ’ ’ queried Billy, surprised. i ‘ Why, I 
don’t know.” 

“ She’s got a fine schedule,” exclaimed Becky 
with a grateful glance at her rescuer. “ Pennsyl- 
vania and Carlisle and a probable game with 
Princeton. ’ ’ 

“We don’t know anything about Michigan,” 
protested Jack rather sulkily. ‘ ‘ But ’ ’ 

“Well, you’d better wake up!” cried Schuyler 
heatedly. “Say, Becky, isn’t Chicago coming 
east?” 

“Game with Cornell,” nodded Becky, “and a 
track meet with Yale, I believe.” 

“She ought to clean up on Yale, now Bob Gard- 
ner’s gone.” 

“Yes, he was a star, wasn’t he? A Chicago boy, 
too !” 

Lucile, waking up to the situation at last, was 
43 


44 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

listening with an amused smile. Schuyler had 
no intention of letting up on his chum, however. 

“You ought to take a trip out that way, Billy. 
When I went to St. Louis with dad last year we 
saw some of the finest agricultural colleges ever. 
Tell you what, they ’re worth seeing. ’ ’ 

“That’s so,” chipped in Mr. Hatton, looking 
over his magazine with sudden interest. “I was 
looking up ways and means then — just after buy- 
ing this place, you know — and I was surprised at 
what we found. You’d better get up to date, boys, 
and read up on those Middle State places. They’re 
doing big work all the time.” 

“Why, I thought everyone knew all about 
them ! ’ ’ exclaimed Becky in surprise. 

“Couldn’t we have some music, Lucile ?” asked 
Billy hastily. 

Lucile was about to refuse, for she was enjoying 
the confusion of her two visitors too much to end 
it, when she caught an imperceptible nod from 
Becky and with a laughing assent led the way to 
the music room. 

Becky followed her and as she passed Billy in 
the doorway she caught a faint apologetic whisper 
from him. 

“Call it off, now, and I’ll be good!” 

“All right,” she smiled, waiting until Lucile 
turned on the lights, “but be careful or I’ll tell 


Resteasy Farm 45 

how you were running errands for me on the 
train. ’ ’ 

There was no chance to say more but judging by 
Billy’s face that was quite enough. The music 
room opened off the library. There was a large 
square piano, a phonograph of the most expensive 
type and the room itself seemed to Becky like a 
concert hall. 

“We thought we might have a musicale or two 
later on,” explained Lucile as she opened the 
piano, “but father hadn’t figured on the scarcity 
of people around here, I guess. Get your dance 
records ready, Sky.” 

The latter, with a triumphant grin at Becky, did 
so. After Lucile had played a popular song or 
two, Schuyler and Billy attended to the machine 
and an impromptu dance was held. The breach 
slowly healed between Becky and the visitors, at 
least on the surface, and the girl betrayed nothing 
of the mortification and shame that was burning in 
her heart until the two boys had departed, with 
noisy farewells, to their car. Schuyler went out 
with them, while Becky returned to the music room 
for her handkerchief. Here Lucile found her a 
moment later. 

4 4 Why, Becky dear ! Whatever is the matter ? ’ ’ 

4 4 It’s that Billy — Dustin,” sobbed Becky. 


46 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

“They think — I’m a baby — and don’t know any- 
thing — ’cause I’m from Chicago — and ” 

“Nonsense!” Lucile turned out the lights lest 
Schuyler come on them unawares — and took 
Becky in her arms. “Now you’ve got to stop being 
such a foolish little girl” — she was a good inch 
shorter than Becky — “and just be sensible for 
once! Why, I don’t see anything to cry about. 
You and Schuyler just knocked Dusty silly, and 
Jack too. I’m sorry I asked them over, anyhow.” 

‘ 4 They ’re all right, ’ ’ returned Becky. “ It ’s my 
fault, I guess.” And she told Lucile of her ad- 
venture on the train with Billy. “It’s all because 
I was a little afraid of them, you see. I never will 
be again, though. Billy thought he could scare 
me or bluff me oilt of saying anything, but it’s 
all over now.” 

“Well, I guess it isn’t !” exclaimed Lucile hotly. 
“I’m going to tell them just what I think of them! 
I supposed it was all a joke ” 

“Now don’t do that!” cried Becky in alarm. 
“Billy called it all off and we made up. You’ll 
see, he’ll be just as nice as can be after to-night. 
I felt a little — a little foolish, I guess.” Becky 
mopped her eyes with what was left of her hand- 
kerchief and sprang up with a laugh. ‘ 6 Come on ! 
We’re all right now! I’m about ready for bed, 
too.” 


47 


Resteasy Farm 

As she was about to go to her room, Mr. Hatton 
called to her from his private study adjoining the 
library. Becky went in, and found him seated at 
his desk, on which lay a pile of cards. 

“I just wanted to show you these, Becky,” said 
Mr. Hatton as he handed her one of them. i * * 4 * * * * ‘ I like 
to get these out myself and the children like 
them. ’ ’ 

On all the cards was a little pen and ink sketch, 
in some droll conception, of a horse and rider ; be- 
neath was a printed form with blanks filled in by 
hand. 

RACES ! 

The usual races will be held on Thursday, 
August 5th, at the Resteasy Track, at which your 
presence is commanded under pain of one penny 
forfeit. Two o’clock sharp. Lunch will be served 
at five. Prizes awarded by the Judge. 

Egbert Hatton'. 

i ‘ What do you think of it?” 

“It’s fine!” cried Becky, delighted. 4 ‘And the 

cute little picture is perfectly dear. May I keep 

this?” 

“Do,” replied Mr. Hatton. “Consider it your 

invitation, if you like. And now off to bed ; you’ve 

had a hard day, I fear, and should not have danced 

this evening. ’ 9 

“Oh, yes, I should!” laughed Becky and bade 


48 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

him good night. She was tired, however ; too tired 
to fall asleep at once. As she lay in bed, the events 
of the day recurred to her with startling distinct- 
ness. When she thought of Billy and Jack she 
smiled to herself; then her old fears and doubt- 
ings overcame her and she had a quiet little cry, 
in the midst of which she must have fallen asleep, 
for she woke to find the sun streaming in on her. 

This, the first day of her visit, was one of un- 
dreamed of wonders. After breakfast Mr. Hatton 
claimed Becky for the morning. Taking a small 
runabout electric, which he drove himself, he 
showed her the whole farm, or rather estate, con- 
sisting of thousands of acres. The greater part 
of it was devoted to fancy stock raising. One 
thickly wooded portion was being stocked as a 
game preserve. 

There were buildings of all kinds. The “ cot- 
tage’ 9 itself was lighted from a central electric 
plant which supplied power to all the barns and 
workmen’s cottages, which formed a small village 
in themselves. The pony farm and race track 
formed a separate portion of the estate and 
Becky went into wild delight over the ponies. 

‘ ‘ There are about two hundred, ’ ’ explained Mr. 
Hatton as they stopped to look at a herd. “Most 
of them are Shetlands and all are of the best 
breed. Hello, Prince!” 


Resteasy Farm 49 

A pretty little Shetland with flowing brown 
mane trotted up quite fearlessly to the machine 
and stuck its nose into Becky’s hand. 

“ Looking for sugar, eh?” laughed Mr. Hatton. 
‘ ‘ Prince is Lucile ’s own pony, Becky. ’ ’ 

“He’s a darling!” cried Becky excitedly, strok- 
ing the pony ’s nose a trifle timidly. ‘ 4 They ’re all 
beauties, every one. May I ride one to-morrow ? ’ ’ 
For the moment she had forgotten that she 
could not ride. But Mr. Hatton’s reply quickly 
brought her around. 

“Of course. Everyone picks out their own 
mount from the herd, so there’s no favoritism. 
They’ll all be looking forward to seeing the girl 
from the Wild West give quite an exhibition, too. 
There’s a nice set of beauty-pins up as prize on 
the girls ’ race, so you ’d better ride to win. ’ ’ 

“But, Mr. Hatton!” gasped Becky with a sud- 
den impulse born of desperation. “I can’t ride! 
I never rode in all my life ! ’ ’ 

“What!” Mr. Hatton stared at her a moment 
and then burst into a laugh. And not only that, 
but he kept it up, roar on roar, until Prince 
scampered away insulted and poor Becky shrank 
back with very mixed feelings. 

“I beg your pardon,” cried her host at length, 
wiping his eyes, “but you don’t know the joke. 
You see Schuyler has been filling Billy and Jack 


50 Captain Becky’ s Masquerade 

and the rest of the crowd with all kinds of tales 
about you. Whenever he couldn’t think of any- 
thing else he’d fall back on his imagination. 
Among other things he told them a lot about your 
riding and of course they spread it around. Oh, 
it’ll teach Sky a lesson!” And he went off into 
another fit of laughter which Becky interrupted 
very suddenly and determinedly. 

‘ ‘ Look here, Mr. Hatton ! I ’m going to ride in 
that race to-morrow and don’t you tell anyone that 
I can’t ride. I just won’t be made fun of any more 
by Billy Dustin and Jack — and, anyway, the joke 
would be on me and not on Sky. I guess it isn’t 
much of a trick to ride those ponies. I can hang 
on if anybody else can. JJow you won’t say any- 
thing, will you?” 

“Why, of course not.” Mr. Hatton glanced at 
her flushed face and anxious eyes with a lingering 
smile. “But I don’t want you to get thrown and 
hurt, you know.” 

“Oh, you needn’t worry. I can hang on when 
I get going,” laughed Becky resolutely. 

“Well, it’s nearly luncheon time,” returned Mr. 
Hatton as he threw in the clutch. “I’ll pick out a 
pony myself for you, Becky, when the time comes 
— and mind that you don ’t let anyone else do it. ’ ’ 

Becky assented happily, not quite sure of his 


Resteasy Farm 51 

meaning, and a few minutes later they had re- 
turned to the house. 

“I think you’re mean!” cried Lucile to her 
father. “You took Becky off for the whole morn- 
ing when I’m just dying to show her my new 
dresses and things.” 

‘ ‘ She cares more about seeing a real live up-to- 
date farm and some of the finest Shetlands in the 
country than she does about a lot of dress things, 
don’t you, Captain!” laughed Mr. Hatton. 

“No-o, I’m not sure that I do,” retorted Becky 
as she climbed out of the runabout. “But it’s all 
perfectly glorious, Mr. Hatton. I never imagined 
that a farm away up here in the hills could be like 
this. You won’t forget your promise, will you!” 

“About to-morrow! Of course not.” 

1 6 What promise ! ’ ’ inquired Lucile, pausing with 
her arm about Becky ’s waist. 

“Oh,” laughed Becky slyly, “that’s a secret be- 
tween me and your father! Come on, I’m almost 
famished.” 

Becky had been a little dubious about her middy 
waist and P. T., but to her delight she found that 
Lucile wore nothing else around the farm. It was 
the very thing, declared her friends, especially 
for trips to Lake Sunapee, and she could hardly 
believe that Becky’s was homemade. 

“My dear!” she cried, as she helped in the post- 


52 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

poned unpacking of her guest’s trunk, “how on 
earth do you do it? Here my suits are made by 
P. T. himself and yet there’s something about 
yours — well, I want you to look at my new party 
dress right after luncheon and tell me what’s 
wrong with it.” 

“I’ll be glad to,” laughed Becky. “But you 
give me too much credit. Anybody can fix dresses 
right.” 

“No they can’t,” asserted Lucile. “My new 
one cost ninety-five dollars and it looks like a 
fright. I don’t know what’s the matter and 
Madame Picquet said it was ‘ ab-so-lute-ly a 
dream, my dear ! ’ But it ’s off somewhere. ’ ’ 

So, right after luncheon Lucile carried Becky 
off to her room, much to the disgust of Schuyler. 
She got out the new dress and Becky, who never 
had the slightest thought of envy in her make-up, 
went into ecstasies over it. But when Lucile tried 
it on, the Chicago girl could see at once what her 
friend had meant. 

“I don’t know what it is,” said Becky, frown- 
ing as she walked around the other, “but it 
doesn’t seem to just — Oh, I do too know. Take it 
off, quick. Where are the scissors? And the 
pins ? ’ ’ 

Careless of everything but her idea, Becky 
slashed recklessly at the skirt for a few minutes. 


Resteasy Farm 53 

Then Lucile put it on again and submitted to a 
series of trials, after which Becky rose from her 
knees in triumph. 

“ There, now look at it! All it needed was to 
have that bottom flounce taken out and put in an 
inch lower down.” 

* 4 ‘Why, that’s ever so much better,” cried 
Lucile admiringly. “It was just the one thing 
needed, Becky dear. How did you know?” 

“I just guessed,” confessed Becky happily. 

“ I ’ll have Briggs go to work on it right away, ’ ’ 
declared Lucile, “and it’ll be done in no time. 
You’re a dear!” 

“Now I’ve got to write a note home,” said 
Becky. “I should have done it last night.” 

“Come along to the library. Everything’s 
there. Just fasten this hook — there we are!” 

When Becky was left alone in the library, with 
pen and ink and paper before her, she sat staring 
at the bookcases around her for a long time. 

“No, I won’t say a word except about what’s 
nice,” she concluded. “And goodness knows 
there ’s enough to say about that ! ’ ’ 

Then she bent over the paper and wrote 
furiously for half an hour, telling about all she 
had seen and part of what she had done. When 
at length she folded and sealed the letter, there 
was a new light in her eyes. 


54 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“I guess other folks have to put up with a lot 
from me, ’ ’ she was thinking, “sol ’ll make up my 
mind to put up with a lot from them. And I’ll 
he so nice to those boys that they’ll feel mean!” 

Had she known how soon her resolutions were 
to be tested, and how severely, she might not have 
been in $uch a happy frame of mind. 


CHAPTER V 


AT THE RACES 

1 1 Say, Captain ! I want to tip you off to some- 
thing. ’ ’ 

It was one thirty o’clock and Becky stood out 
in the warm sunshine on the wide front porch 
waiting for Lucile and Mrs. Hatton to start for 
the races. Behind her was Schuyler advancing 
eagerly from the door. 

“Why isn’t anyone here?” asked Becky, 
wrinkling her brows in surprise. “I thought 
there ’d be a crowd.” 

“There will be — at the track,” was the boy’s 
reply. “They meet there and come over here 
later. Now look here, Becky. You’re going in 
the girls ’ race ? ’ ’ 

“I suppose so,” smiled Becky. 

“Well, Lucile means to win it,” said Schuyler 
shortly. “You’ve got to beat her to it. She’s a 
peach of a rider, too. She means all right, but — 
well, she’s got a notion that you’re some rider, 
o’ course. I just wanted to put you next — I hope 
you’ll beat her a mile! So long.” And Schuyler 
was off to the stables. 


55 


56 Captain Bechy’s Masquerade 

Becky looked after him with a wry little smile. 
So Lucile was going to beat her ! In that moment 
Becky determined that she would ride if she died 
for it. And there was bitterness in her heart, too, 
but not for long. She was far too generous not to 
make wide allowance for the shortcomings of her 
friends and she resolved to make Lucile happy 
at the cost of her own pride. Her reflections were 
cut short by the appearance of Lucile and her 
mother, together with that of the runabout driven 
by Louis. 

4 4 It’s a nuisance to use the machine,” ex- 
claimed Lucile with a pout, 4 4 but we’ll be glad 
enough to have it coming home. It’s nearly half 
a mile to the track, isn’t it, mother?” 

4 4 More nearly a mile, Lucile,” answered Mrs. 
Hatton, who always took a keen interest in the 
races. Within a few moments they arrived at the 
track and Becky found it very different from 
what it had been the day before. 

The paddock was full of ponies, as was the track 
itself. Many, just from the stables, were 
blanketed, and grooms led them in groups of two 
and three while a crowd of young people inspected 
them. Behind the miniature grand stand and 
lined up along the track were a score of motor 
cars and a number of dog-carts. The whole scene 
was alive with color and noisy with the delight of 


At the Races 


57 


children and young folks. One riotous group 
headed by Billy and Schuyler hailed the runabout 
with a yell of greeting as it rolled up. Mr. Hatton 
hastened forward to help out his wife. 

A crowd of girls and boys gathered about the 
runabout and Becky was introduced to one after 
another. There were so many that she could not 
begin to remember them all. One in particular 
struck her by her dark hair, sparkling black eyes 
and tomboy manner. She was not surprised to 
be introduced to Wilhelmina Humphrey, Jack’s 
sister. Then Billy and Schuyler charged down 
and carried off Becky to introduce her to the boys 
and the ponies. 

Barely had she shaken hands with the last boy 
when three deep notes of the bell came from the 
miniature judges’ stand, where Mr. and Mrs. 
Hatton had taken their places. The former 
always acted as starter and judge and now 
through a megaphone he announced the races. 

1 i Two o ’clock. First race is for girls under four- 
teen. Prizes, silver belt pin and box of candy. 
Choose your mounts. Clear the track!” 

Instantly the grooms began leading the ponies 
off the track, and a number of shrieking, excited 
girls descended upon them. As fast as the ponies 
were chosen they were led away to be saddled 
and bridled, and a moment later two or three of 


58 


Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

the smaller girls dashed out eagerly on their 
steeds. Becky had been too absorbed in watch- 
ing the busy scene to heed anything else and, 
as she looked around, she found Billy at her 
side. 

“ Peach of a day, ain’t it?” he began, in an 
embarrassed manner. 

1 ‘ Fine ! ’ ’ she answered, heartily. i 1 Aren ’t tho se 
ponies too cute for anything?” 

“Not so bad,” agreed Billy. “Goin’ to ride?” 

‘ ‘ I don ’t know yet, ’ 9 said Becky, cautiously. ‘ ‘ I 
suppose so.” 

“Girls’ race comes last,” volunteered Jack, 
who had joined them with Schuyler and Lucile. 
“Billy’s goin’ in, too.” 

“Billy?” queried Becky, in surprise. 

“He’s talkin’ about his sister, not me,” 
chuckled Dusty. “Don’t get us mixed up, Cap- 
tain Becky.” 

“All right; I’ll try not to — Dusty,” retorted 
Becky, with a laugh. “Hello!” 

While they had been chatting, the entries had 
been made and now, with a tap of the bell, Mr. 
Hatton read off the list. The grooms at the 
ponies’ heads lined them up. Then came one 
sharp stroke of the bell and a shout arose from 
the watchers. 


At the Races 59 

‘ ‘ They ’re off ! ’ ’ yelled Dusty. ‘ 1 Push out, Helen ! 
That’s the idea!” 

4 ‘Let him out, Freda!” cried Jack, amid the 
babel of cheers and blowing of horns that went up. 
For a few moments the half-dozen smaller girls 
who were riding kept in a bunch halfway around 
the track. Then they swiftly drew apart. One 
after another fell behind until only two were left 
neck and neck at the last quarter. Then Helen 
Hunt, a particular friend of Ruth’s, came dash- 
ing in for first prize. Ruth herself took no part 
in the races as yet, but sat gravely beside her 
father in the judges’ stand. 

“They have one heat for the little races,” ex- 
plained “Billy” Humphrey, joining the group and 
standing beside Becky. “Are you going in with 
Lucile and me?” 

“Why, I’ll try it,” replied Becky, stoutly 
enough, but with no little trepidation now that she 
was actually on the scene. 

‘ ‘ Ever play tennis ? ’ ’ 

“I love it!” declared Becky, enthusiastically. 
Indeed, tennis was the one sport wherein she felt 
at home. 

‘ ‘ Dandy ! Hey, J ack, Sky — come over here. ’ ’ 

At the imperious tone in Billy’s voice, the 
boys crowded around. Mr. Hatton had just 
awarded the prizes and the track was being 


60 


Captain Becky's Masquerade 

cleared for the next race, which was to be for 
smaller boys. 

44 Dusty,” ordered his fair cousin, regally, 
4 4 where’s that silver cnp yon got to put up for 
the tennis tournament last month. It rained, you 
know, and everything was called off.” 

4 4 It’s around somewhere. Why?” returned 
Dusty. 

4 4 Well, look it up to-night. Get it shined up 
by to-morrow afternoon. Lucile, Becky, Jack, 
Dusty, Sky and me — that’s six — are to have a 
tournament to-morrow afternoon, over at the 
club.” 

4 4 Make it to-morrow morning,” cried Lucile. 

4 4 Then we’ll come over for the day and try 
Dusty’s new motor boat.” 

4 4 Fine!” declared Billy. 4 4 Sky, you an’ Becky 
play together. Jack, you take Lucile, an’ Dusty ’ll 
take me. ’ ’ 

44 Well, I like your nerve !” cried Dusty, but with 
a laugh that showed he did not dislike the plan 
so very much. Becky was amused at Schuy- 
ler’s wink of delight and surprised at the way in 
which Billy ordered everyone else around. The 
conversation was interrupted, however, by the 
starting of the second race for boys. 

When this was over Mr. Hatton announced a 
free-for-all hurdle race, and grooms moved out 


At the Races 


61 


with miniature hurdles which were placed in posi- 
tion along the track. This race was unexpected 
and Billy promptly dashed oil with the intention 
of entering. 

“ What’s the prize ?” asked Schuyler, eagerly. 
‘ 4 Tennis racket ? Me for it ! ’ ’ 

He was followed by Dusty, hut Jack preferred 
to wait until the next race, which would be for 
larger boys. Instead of heats, it was now arranged 
that each race would be run four times around the 
track, as a dispute had arisen between two of the 
visitors about their mounts for the second heat of 
the hurdle race, and Mr. Hatton wished to avoid 
anything of the kind. 

The entries for the hurdles consisted of Billy, 
Schuyler, Dusty and three others whose names 
Becky could not remember and could not hear 
as they were read off. A tennis racket was the 
first prize; second, a silver desk set, and third, 
a fine Scotch knit four-in-hand suitable for either 
girl or boy. 

‘ 4 Watch Billy get laid out fiat,” chuckled Jack, 
as he saw his sister appear on a black pony. 
“ Dusty an’ Sky’ll knock the spots out of her.” 

“No, they won’t,” asserted Lucile, indignantly. 
‘ ‘ She ’s got my pony ; you just wait ! ’ ’ 

“Won’t she be too tired to go in our race?” 


62 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

ventured Becky. She was already thinking of it 
as “ours,” but Lucile did not notice the slip. 

‘ 1 Tired ! ’ ’ laughed J ack. ‘ ‘ Why, Billy can stand 
anything! She can tire out me or any of the 
fellows.” 

Becky subsided and gave her attention to the 
race. Twice the ponies came under the wire in 
a clump and twice Mr. Hatton sent them back 
with three strokes. Then came a well lined up 
dash and with one sharp tap of the bell the race 
was on. 

As the ponies swept past the first quarter, 
grooms hastily put out hurdles, for none had been 
placed until the half and there were three more 
rounds of the track. Up went the first rider and 
Jack sent up a yell of delight. 

“Sky’s ahead! Dusty’s right behind!” 

“Come on, Billy!” shouted Becky, recognizing 
her new friend among the foremost. Hurdle after 
hurdle was taken and when the ponies darted into 
the homestretch she saw that Schuyler and Dusty 
were tied for first place ; another boy was second 
and Wilhelmina was behind with the bunch. These 
quickly scattered during the second round, how- 
ever, leaving Dusty first, the other boy second and 
Schuyler and Wilhelmina tied for third. 

The third heat sent the crowd into mad excite- 
ment, even the grooms joining in the cheers. 


At the Races 


63 


Wilhelmina had cleverly crowded Schuyler into 
the fence, forcing him to fall back, and as the 
riders bobbed up over the last hurdle she swept 
even with the second boy. So they remained 
until the half was reached again. Then Becky 
saw Wilhelmina ’s whip flirt out, the black pony 
forge ahead and she was even with Dusty at 
the three-quarters. Down swept the ponies into 
the homestretch and, at almost the last moment, 
Wilhelmina swept off her hat, flapped it across 
her pony’s hindquarters with a yell and beat 
Dusty by a neck. 

‘ ‘ Come on, Becky!” cried Lucile, excitedly. 
* ‘ We’ve got to get our ponies now. Billy’s used 
mine up, so I’ll have to take another.” 

“I’ll pick out one for you, Becky,” urged Jack, 
suddenly, and he darted away before the girls 
could stop him. Becky followed Lucile to the pad- 
dock and stood helpless amidst the thronging 
grooms and crowding ponies. A moment later 
Schuyler appeared, flushed and dusty. 

“Well, I lost all right that time,” he said, rather 
sheepishly. “Hello! You’re in the next, ain’t 
you? Got a pony?” 

Becky hesitated, and as she did so Jack ap- 
peared, leading a cream-colored Shetland. 

“Here’s just what you want, Becky!” he ex- 


64 


Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

claimed. “He’s a peach — he can run away from 
everything here.” 

Becky looked at the pony, saw a swift glance 
of surprise flit over Schuyler’s face and caught 
an almost imperceptible shake of the latter ’s head. 
At the same moment a voice fell on her ears. 

“Ah, here you are, Captain!” Whirling around, 
she saw Mr. Hatton, followed by a groom and 
pony. “What are you doing with that mount, 
Jack?” came his sharp question. Jack looked 
confused. 

“Why, Becky wanted a pony, an’ Fury’s the 
best kind ” 

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Mr. Hatton. “Becky, 
here’s your mount and you’ll find him all right. 
Get him saddled, Jim. Now, no more tricks 
like that, young man, unless you want to be 
disbarred ! ’ ’ 

As Mr. Hatton returned to the stand Jack van- 
ished hastily. Schuyler winked at the bewildered 
Becky and had only time for a hasty word before 
Lucile rejoined them. 

“He was slipping one over on you, Cap. Fury’s 
an awful beast — I wouldn’t have let you take her, 
anyhow. ’ ’ 

“All ready, Becky?” exclaimed Lucile. 

“Pretty near, thanks!” But, although she 
appeared quite calm, Becky was desperately 


At the Races 


65 


unhappy inwardly and nerved herself to the 
ordeal with all her power. So Jack had tried 
to give her a vicious pony! She remembered 
suddenly that Billy Dustin had been whispering 
earnestly to his cousin just before the hurdle race, 
with frequent glances at her. So that was it! 
As the groom approached with her pony Becky 
mentally resolved to pay off Dusty before very 
long. 

Schuyler helped her into the saddle and gave 
her a last word of encouragement as she sat there, 
a queer, helpless feeling in her heart. 

“Hey, Jim! Loosen these stirrups an’ let ’em 
down. Now, Becky, most of us ride Eastern 
fashion, high-stirrup; but that’s a reg’lar cow- 
boy saddle you got there — picked it out myself. 
There, your stirrups are down just right. Grip 
tight with your knees. Good luck, Cap ! ’ ’ 

Then the groom led her out onto the track — 
and everything became a blur to poor Becky. 
Dimly she heard Mr. Hatton read off her name 
and Lucile’s and announce that Wilhelmina was 
barred, having won one race already. Then came 
the bell and she felt her pony swing in beside 
Lucile’s. Another bell stroke, and a great yell 
completely finished her bewilderment. 

She realized nothing except that she was hold- 
ing on grimly to the reins and saddle-pommel. 


66 Captain Becky’ s Masquerade 

Then she loosened her grip on the latter, deter- 
mined not to appear any more ridiculous than 
she had to. Oddly enough, she thought, she was 
still even with Lucile as they swept for the first 
time into the homestretch. A new burst of yells 
and horns sounded in her ears as the stand 
and paddock flashed by. Then everything drifted 
behind again. 

Twice more they passed the crowd and not until 
the third time did Becky wake up. She regained 
her senses and self-command as she heard a sharp 
yell from Schuyler. 

‘ ‘ Last lap, Cap ! You got her ! Shoot away ! ’ ’ 

Why, she was still even with Lucile ! Suddenly 
“finding” herself, Becky leaned over and urged 
on her pony. The result sent her a length ahead 
and she heard a quick gasp from Lucile, just 
behind. A wild thrill of exultation surged through 
Becky’s heart. She, who had never ridden before, 
was actually winning ! She was beating Lucile at 
her own game! 


CHAPTEB VI 


BECKY EVENS UP 

But even as she flicked down her quirt Becky 
remembered. Lucile wanted to win. They were 
at the half now and she felt a wild impulse to 
sweep ahead recklessly; but Lucile had set her 
heart on winning and, as Becky’s generosity 
returned, her swift exultation ebbed. She had 
promised herself to let Lucile win, and she would. 

With a new and close grip she set her hands on 
the reins. Slowly she drew in the pony’s head. 
More and more Lucile came up as they rounded 
the three-quarters, until as the homestretch 
loomed ahead Becky forced her mount back and 
Lucile was a length ahead. At the paddock Becky 
loosened her grip and urged on her pony, but 
Lucile swept under the wire a half-length ahead. 

“The East wins!” yelled Jack, darting out 
and grabbing Lucile ’s bridle triumphantly as the 
excited crowd overflowed the track and the grooms 
came for the ponies. As Becky slipped to the 
ground she heard an angry whisper in her ear. 

“ What’d you throw that race for?” 

67 


68 


Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

She turned to find Schuyler at her side. The 
others were crowding about the winner, who was 
going to the stand to receive the prize. 

“I — I was scared,” gasped Becky, rather faintly. 

“Is that the truth?” urged Schuyler, hotly, his 
eyes aflame. 

“Well, everyone expected Lucile to win — it 
wasn’t anything to me — I couldn’t help it,” stam- 
mered Becky, becoming confused as she felt her 
temples flush. “I didn’t want to disappoint Hump, 
either. ’ ’ 

“Hump!” echoed Schuyler. “Why, 1 wanted 
you to win! I reckon my disappointment don’t 
count. ’ ’ 

“I didn’t know you cared about it,” protested 
Becky, earnestly. “Anyway, don’t tell on me, 
Sky. I didn’t mean to do it — I just couldn’t 
help it!” 

“Ho! I thought Western girls could ride,” 
laughed Jack, as he and the rest crowded around. 

“She was scared,” defended Schuyler, “and I 
don’t blame her.” 

“Pretty good for your first ride, Captain!” 
exclaimed Mr. Hatton, as he pushed through the 
crowd and seized Becky’s hand. A questioning 
shout went up at his words and as Becky’s blush 
confirmed the statement Lucile put an arm around 
her waist quickly. 


69 


Becky Evens Up 

“Why, we didn’t know that, Becky!” cried 
Lucile. “I never thought ” She was inter- 

rupted by Wilhelmina, who seized the hand Mr. 
Hatton dropped. 

“Shake, Captain Becky! Say, we all thought 
you were an old hand — honest ! If you play tennis 
like you can ride we’ll all get cleaned up to- 
morrow, eh, Dusty?” 

“I guess that’s right,” grinned the red-haired 
boy. There was no more time for talk, as they 
were swept out of the track. Five minutes later 
a long string of motors and dog-carts wound its 
way toward the house, whose grounds were orna- 
mented with Japanese lanterns. 

Here, after quickly changing her clothes, Becky 
spent one of the happiest evenings she had ever 
known. A substantial supper was served outdoors 
and when the younger members of the party had 
been sent home in charge of their grooms and par- 
ents, the older ones adjourned to the music room 
for a dance. Between times it was arranged that 
Billy and Jack were to call for Schuyler, Lucile 
and Becky the next morning with the Humphreys’ 
car and take them over to the lake, where Dusty 
would meet them, as the Dustin cottage was on 
the lake itself. 

When Becky crept into bed that night she was 
so tired that she had little time for reflection. Her 


70 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

slight bitterness had wholly vanished. She had 
won her place and as she fell asleep she had only 
a feeling of contented happiness with everything 
and everybody — except Dusty. 

Jack and his sister were to call at eight, which 
was unusually early for Lucile, but not for Becky. 
At seven the young people were up for a hasty 
breakfast, after which Lucile fitted Becky out with 
her best racket, and promptly on time the big red 
roadster rolled up the drive with Jack at the 
wheel. 

The morning was magnificent. The air was 
clear and cool, and all around them hung the 
blue shadows of the mountains. Jack and Schuy- 
ler were in front, with the three girls in the ton- 
neau, and now Becky got her first taste of real 
speeding. 

“How far is it to the club?” she asked, between 
bounces. 

“Ten or twelve miles,” replied Billy, calmly. 
“We’ve done it in fifteen minutes when no one 
blocked the road. Let her out, J ack ! ’ ’ 

And Jack “let her out” as soon as they gained 
the main road. Becky gave one gasp and then held 
her breath, expecting every minute that some- 
thing would happen. But nothing did. The road 
led among the hills, but Jack never slackened 
'speed except for turns. There seemed to be no one 


Becky Evens Up 71 

on the road; indeed, the desolate beauty of the 
scenery impressed the Chicago girl greatly. 

There were no closely settled farms such as she 
was used to. Occasionally they would pass an old 
farmhouse, apparently fighting against the rocks 
and scrubby trees for its bare existence, hut signs 
of life were not many. Then they darted around 
a corner and before them lay Sunapee Lake, 
sparkling in the sunshine. There were several 
boats in sight, the edges of the lake were sprinkled 
with cottages and farms and the scene reminded 
Becky of the Michigan and Wisconsin resorts 
which she had visited in other years. 

‘ 4 There’s the club,” cried Lucile, pointing to a 
group of low buildings on a little point of land 
ahead. 

“An* there’s Dusty’s boat,” added Schuyler, 
excitedly, pointing to a long, thin shape cutting 
through the water near the club docks. Jack 
tooted the horn as they descended the hill, and a 
faint shriek came back from Dusty’s siren as the 
boat turned in. Then they were at the club. 

While they waited for Jack to return from the 
garage, Becky looked around with eager interest. 
The clubhouse was a low, square building with a 
wide veranda, and was surrounded by boathouses 
and other structures. A group of gayly dressed 
people, followed by caddies, waved at them as they 


72 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

departed for the golf links. Behind the clubhouse 
were half a dozen tennis courts, only one of which 
was not taken by flannel-clad players. Wilhelmina 
instantly made a dash for this. 

“You wait for Jack an’ Dusty,” she called. 
“I’m goin’ to hold that court before Van Blount 

comes. I just saw him ” and the rest was lost 

as Billy dashed off. 

“She can’t keep still,” laughed Lucile, happily. 
‘ 4 1 wish I had her go. ’ ’ 

“You have,” cried Schuyler, “only it doesn’t 
show. Hello, Dusty ! Got the cup ? ’ ’ 

Dusty greeted them with his usual cheerful 
grin and for the moment Becky forgot that she 
had a score to settle with him. He produced a 
silver cup five inches high from the depths of a 
flannel bag. 

“Ain’t she a beaut?” he exclaimed. “I might 
as well keep it, though, ’cause Billy an’ I’ll 
win it.” 

“No, you won’t!” asserted Lucile, wresting the 
cup from his hands suddenly. “Hey! Mr. Van!” 

A tall, languid youth in cream flannels was just 
emerging on the club veranda. At Lucile ’s cry he 
turned and descended the steps. 

“Hello, folks!” he drawled. “Er — I beg your 
pardon!” 

“Miss Beckwith, Mr. Van Blount,” exclaimed 


73 


Becky Evens TJp 

Lucile, promptly. “Say, Van, you’ve lost your 
chance at the last court because Billy’s holding 
it for us. We’ve got a tournament on. Act as 
judge, will you?” 

“Why, gladly!” Van Blount seemed rather 
staggered at this direct attack. He had the air 
of being too bored to move fast, and Becky caught 
an appreciative grin from Schuyler as Lucile 
thrust the cup into his hands. 

i ‘ Come along, ’ ’ exclaimed Dusty. ‘ ‘ No use wast- 
ing time. Who ’ll go first ? ’ ’ 

“Becky and I’ll play Lucile an’ Hump,” called 
Schuyler, pulling off his coat as they went along. 
“You an’ Billy can wait. Three out of four sets. 
You play the winners an’ the two last girls play 
for the cup. That suit you?” 

As all agreed promptly, Van Blount took his 
seat on the judge’s stand with paper and pencil, 
while the others extracted their rackets from the 
•cases. 

“Don’t the boys have any show at the cup?” 
asked Becky, in surprise. 

“No, we don’t count,” grinned Jack. “We’re 
just here to fill up the vacant places. ’ ’ But when 
the proposed plan was told to Billy, she disagreed 
very decisively. 

“Becky an’ Schuyler play Lucile an’ Jack,” 
she ordered. “Then Dusty and I’ll play ’em. If 


74 Captain Becky 9 s Masquerade 

we both beat them, then Becky an’ Sky can play ns 
for the cup. That ’s fairer. ’ 9 

So it was agreed and Becky walked out on the 
smoothly rolled court with her partner, who 
ordered her to play forward. This stroke of 
genius pitted her against Jack and rather dis- 
concerted Lucile, so that Becky and Schuyler beat 
them three straight sets and retired to rest. 

Becky soon saw that Lucile was not in it com- 
pared to Billy Humphrey, who was an even better 
player than Dusty. Jack, however, made it hot 
for his sister and won two out of the five sets, 
which retired him and Lucile from all hope of 
the cup. As Billy scorned to take a rest, Becky 
caught up her racket again and took the field, 
Schuyler playing forward this time against Dusty. 
Van Blount tossed down fresh balls to Billy, the 
first server, and the match was on. 

This time Becky had to work for all she was 
worth. Billy seemed to cover the whole back 
court with amazing quickness, sending ball after 
ball just inside Becky’s back line and keeping her 
purely on the defensive. Time after time the 
score went back to forty all, then Schuyler sent 
the ball into the net and lost the first game. When 
Van Blount announced that the first set had gone 
to Billy and Dusty, score 6-3, Schuyler approached 
Becky as they changed courts. 


Becky Evens Up 75 

“You play up against Dusty,’ ’ lie said. “I can 
handle Billy, an’ Dusty’s scared o’ you.” 

“All right,” nodded Becky. “I’ll make him 
scareder yet before we get through ! ’ ’ 

But Dusty did not look scared in the least as 
Becky faced him and the second set resolved itself 
into a battle between the two forward players. 
Time after time a cheer went up from the group 
of watchers behind Lucile and Jack as Dusty 
and Becky volleyed back and forth, but Schuy- 
ler’s words proved true. Dusty lost two games 
through inexcusable errors ; Schuyler sent a 
twister through Billy for another, making the 
games stand three all. Then Becky dropped a 
teaser over the net that Dusty failed to return. 
The honors finally broke even with a set apiece. 

In the third set Dusty recovered his brilliancy 
and played for Schuyler instead of Becky. By 
this strategy the latter couple only won two games 
out of the set. 

“Now we’ve got to work,” said the perspiring 
Schuyler, as they changed courts for the next set. 
“Two to our one. We’ve got to win two straight 
sets, Cap!” 

“Maybe I’d better play back!” suggested 
Becky. 

“Not on your life!” returned Schuyler, grimly. 


76 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

6 4 Dusty ’ll lose his nerve again pretty quick. 
You’re all right.” 

As Becky took her place she determined that 
Dusty should not play through her this time. A 
sudden idea came to her and she glanced over at 
the red-haired boy with a smile. 

“Here’s where I pay you back for that pony 
deal yesterday, Dusty!” she said in a low voice. 
Her opponent’s face lost its cheerful grin and 
he started to speak, hut had no chance, for Becky 
returned Billy’s ball straight at Dusty. The boy 
struck confusedly and sent the ball into the next 
court. 

“Don’t get scared; I won’t hurt you,” con- 
tinued Becky. This completely unnerved the 
other, who could not imagine how Becky knew of 
the “pony deal,” and angrily determined to pay 
Jack out for telling on him, as he thought. His 
playing became so ragged that Billy called him to 
account sharply time and again, but Dusty could 
do nothing. They only won a single game out of 
the six and, as the courts were changed, Dusty 
received a tongue-lashing from the angry Billy 
that completed his demoralization. 

“Hooray!” yelled Schuyler, flinging up his 
racket wildly as Becky sent the winning ball at 
Dusty, who promptly ducked and let it fly. 4 4 Good 
for you, Cap ! Hooray ! ’ ’ 


77 


Becky Evens Up 

“ Score, three to two, in favor of Miss Beck- 
with and Mr. Hatton/ ’ announced Van Blount in 
his bored drawl. “Miss Beckwith will now play 
Miss Humphrey, best two out of three sets, for 
the cup.” 

There was a brief rest before the finals, during 
which Dusty and J ack had a heated argument off 
to one side. Becky chuckled as she watched them 
disputing and resolved to seize the first chance to 
make friends with Dusty and end the good-natured 
feud that had arisen between them. She really 
liked the cheerful, freckled-faced, impulsive boy, 
and knew that he was only fighting desperately 
in the defense of his own wounded vanity. She 
was kept too busy to do it now, however, for she 
had to be introduced to the crowd of onlookers, 
one or two of whom she had met at the races, but 
then came the judge’s whistle. 

“Miss Humphrey will serve first.” 

Becky faced the other girl with a fierce deter- 
mination to win. She had given the pony race to 
Lucile ; now there was no reason why she should 
not even up on Billy, and she plunged into the 
game with a fire that amazed the others, winning 
the first set with six straight games. 

Billy rallied valiantly, however, taking six 
games in the next set to Becky’s three. The last 
set was hard fought. Billy got five games to 


78 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

Becky’s three, then the Chicago girl put on a 
spurt and won the next two. The last game 
remained at forty-forty for nearly five minutes, 
until Becky made a final lucky stroke which Billy 
could not reach — and the cup was hers ! 

Van Blount awarded it with a languidly digni- 
fied speech which Schuyler spoiled by hearty out- 
bursts, and the cup was first passed around 
through the group and then stored in the car to 
be taken home. Billy was the first to congratu- 
late her rival and her whole-hearted manner of 
doing it was to Becky the pleasantest part of the 
entire day. 

The girls took Becky into the clubhouse, where 
they cleaned up and made ready for lunch. Becky 
was through long before any of the others and 
she strolled out to the dock for a look at the lake. 
As she was standing near the boat landing, glanc- 
ing at the gorgeously-fitted launches beneath, she 
heard a startled gasp from behind. 

“By the jumpin’ Jerusalem! If it ain’t Cap’n 
Becky!” 

Whirling about, she saw a trim, speedy launch 
fastened to the opposite side of the dock. With 
amazed, grease-smudged face peering up over the 
planking, clad in a mechanic’s overalls, stood the 
boy whom she had last seen on the Indian River, 
months before. 


79 


Becky Evens Up 

“Lewis Ahlswede!” exclaimed Becky, incredu- 
lously. Then she sprang across the dock and held 
out her hand eagerly. “Why, where on earth did 
you spring from?” 


CHAPTEE VII 


A NEAK-MAKOONING 

Lewis could only stare at her in dumb amaze- 
ment for a moment, then he looked down at his 
hands and shook his head. 

“I’d get you all greased up,” he said. “Say, 
you could ’a’ knocked me over with a feather! 
What you doin’ here? Where you stayin’? I 
thought you were in Chicago.” 

4 ‘So I was until a few days ago,” laughed 
Becky in delight. “I’m visiting the Hattons, over 
at their farm. But tell me about yourself, Lewis ! 
I’ve been so busy the last day or two I haven’t 
thohght of a thing and didn’t ask Mrs. Hatton.” 

“Me?” came his reply. “You got that postal 
I sent you?” 

Becky nodded. “You didn’t give any address 
to answer to.” 

“I know,” responded Lewis, brightening up a 
trifle. “I wrote it on the way up. You see, Mrs. 
Hatton sent me a ticket an’ said there was work 
waitin’ for me. I got my outfit together an’ lit 
out o’ Melbourne like a streak. 

80 


81 


A Near-Marooning 

“When I got up here I saw Mr. Hatton. Ain’t 
he a peach ? ’ ’ Becky nodded. 4 ‘ He said he ’d give 
me a good job on his place and then asked if I’d 
like to work over here to the lake. I says yes, 
o’ course, an’ he says that Mr. Dustin ” 

“Billy Dustin?” cried Becky, in surprise. 

“His ol’ man. You know Billy?” grinned 
Lewis, and the girl nodded again, her eyes alight. 
“Well, Mr. Dustin wanted some one to ’tend to 
his boat durin’ the summer. That struck me right, 
an’ here I am. Say, ain’t it great to see you, 
though ! ’ ’ 

Becky was about to answer, when a peculiar 
look swept across the grimy face and Lewis sud- 
denly leaped up to the dock. , 

4 ‘ Say ! ” he cried, with sudden excitement, “ if I 
thought that it was you ” 

“Sure, it’s me!” laughed Becky. “What are 
you talking about?” 

“Young Dustin,” scowled Lewis, with a glare 
toward the club. “Him an’ his cousin come down 
’bout twenty minutes ago an’ looked over the 
boat. They didn ’t pay no ’tention to me, o ’ course. 
Dusty says, ‘I’ll have to win out just once, Hump. 
She’s mighty fine, but she’s licked me so bad I’ll 
have to get even.’ ” 

“I know what he meant,” chuckled Becky, with 
eager interest. “ Go on ; what next ? ’ ’ 


82 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“So it was you, eh!” returned Lewis, frowning 
harder. “Well, they fixed up a scheme to take 
some girl out for a ride. Dusty says he’d land 
her up on Goose Island, ’bout three mile up the 
shore, then chase off with the Loafer — that’s the 
boat, here. He fixed it with J ack for him to take 
out the rest o’ the bunch a little later an’ rescue 
you. ’ ’ 

Becky listened open-eyed to this recital of 
Dusty’s plotting. She never doubted for an 
instant that she was the intended victim. As 
Lewis spoke she felt a thrill of hopelessness. Why 
couldn’t she be left to enjoy herself? Then she 
recalled Lewis’ quotation of Dusty’s speech to 
Jack, and her mouth set. Her enemies had been 
delivered into her hands ! She glanced up at the 
club and saw Lucile come out and glance around. 
Becky waved her hand, then spoke rapidly to 
Lewis. 

“Now listen! Don’t let on you know me. Get 
down in the boat and show me how to start an’ 
stop her.” 

Lewis obeyed quickly. There was little to learn 
and Becky’s quick mind comprehended at once. 

“All right — I guess I understand. Dusty’s 
goin’ to take me out an’ lose me — see? Well, 
he’ll take me out — but he won’t lose me.” Becky 
thought rapidly while she was speaking. “I don’t 


A N ear -Marooning 83 

want him to think you told me about it, though. 
You mustn’t lose your job.” 

“Huh! A lot I care for that!” returned the 
boy. “I’m only puttin’ in time here an’ makin’ 
money. I’ve got an advertisin’ scheme ■” 

“Hush!” cautioned Becky, as Lucile ran down 
the dock. The two girls stood looking over the 
boats, ignoring the busy young mechanic below 
them, until Dusty, Billy, Schuyler and Jack waved 
to them to come to lunch. 

“We were inspecting the Loafer called out 
Becky, as they rejoined the party. 

“Want to take a ride after lunch?” asked 
Dusty, carelessly. 

‘ ‘ Oh, I ’d love to ! ” replied Becky, with the inno- 
cent expression which no one but Schuyler had 
learned to distrust. 

“All right. I’ll take you out for a speed run 
and then come back for the rest of the bunch. ’ ’ A 
look of understanding passed between Jack and 
his cousin and Becky steeled her heart anew to 
the ingratiating grin of the latter. 

It was a merry group about the big table in 
one corner of the dining room. Noiseless wait- 
ers served them and the- dozen other tables filled 
by motoring parties, golfers and tennis ‘ ‘ cranks. ’ ’ 
Becky still had a portion of her plan to develop. 


84 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

She was sandwiched between Schnyler and Billy 
Humphrey, when suddenly the former leaned over. 

“Say,” he whispered, 4 ‘what’s wrong with you 
an’ Dusty f” 

Becky smiled and glanced around. The others 
were in high dispute over a questioned tennis 
ruling and paid no attention to her. In a few 
short sentences she told Schuyler of Dusty’s 
plan. 

“He’s all right,” she finished, “only he hates 
to be beaten by a girl. He thinks I’m green 
because I’m from Chicago, and this time I’m 
goin’ to give him a jolt. After we’ve gone, help 
Jack to get the bunch out in his boat. Bring 
them right over to the island, because I may need 
help. Put Billy next, too. I want to be friends 
with Dusty, and perhaps this will show him I’m 
not as easy as I look.” 

“By golly!” Schuyler lost his angry look and 
began to laugh silently. “Good for you, Cap! I’ll 
help, you bet ! ’ ’ 

Becky was very sweet to Dusty as he helped her 
into the Loafer , inspected the gasoline tank, 
started the engine and cast loose the lines. As 
the boat puffed away Dusty reached into a locker 
and tossed over a rubber coat to Becky, putting 
on one himself. 


A N ear -Marooning 85 

4 ‘Better put that on. Pm goin’ to let her out 
a bit.” 

No sooner was Becky safely wrapped up than 
Dusty advanced the lever and two great wings 
of water shot up from the bows. The boat slipped 
through the lake at marvelous speed and Becky 
exclaimed admiringly as the shores darted past. 
She kept a sharp lookout for the island and soon 
saw it dead ahead. 

“Oh, there’s an island! Couldn’t we land 
there, Dusty ? Let ’s explore it ! ” 

“Sure!” Dusty grinned again as he slowed 
down. Presently he shut off the gasoline, and 
the Loafer poked her nose gently into the sandy 
shore. Dusty leaped out, pulled her up, and then 
helped Becky to alight. 

“It isn’t a very inviting place, is it?” Becky 
gazed over the bare, rocky little island, grasp- 
ing the boy’s arm as she climbed over the stones. 
“Oh, this rubber coat! Wait a minute, till I 
throw it back into the boat. ’ ’ 

“No use ” began the boy, but Becky was 

already running back. As she paused beside the 
launch she saw Dusty look out over the lake. The 
next instant she pushed out the boat, clambered 
over the rounded bow, fell on a locker and was 
afloat. 

“Hey! What are you doin’ out there?” 


86 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

Becky chuckled as Dusty ran down to the shore. 
She had no need to start the engine, however, 
for her one- push had carried the boat out twenty 
feet from shore. Piling cushions into one of the 
four easy chairs that filled the boat, she settled 
herself comfortably before replying. 

* 4 Take it easy,” she called at length. “You’ve 
got quite a while to wait. Shall I throw you a 
cushion ? ’ ’ 

“What d’you mean?” responded Dusty with an 
expression of dismay. “You ain’t goin’ to leave 
me here?” 

“I ought to,” replied Becky, gravely, “by 
rights; but I won’t. You must have an awfully 
poor opinion of me, Billy Dustin. But this time 
you tried just one trick too many.” 

“Wdiat!” stammered the amazed boy. “Do — 
do you mean — you ” 

“I know all about it,” stated Becky, calmly. 

“Did Jack ” began the other, and Becky 

laughed. 

“No, Jack didn’t. Never mind about that. 
You’re goin’ to stay there till the rest come.” 

“Say, look here!” pleaded Dusty, in dismay. 
“Don’t be so hard on a fellow ” 

“I suppose you didn’t think it’d be hard on me 
to leave me sitting out there ? ’ ’ 


A N ear -Marooning 87 

“ Honest, I never thought about it. Come on in 
an’ we’ll go hack a-flyin’,” he coaxed. 

“No, we won’t,” responded Becky. “Anyhow, 
I see a boat cornin’ up the lake now.” 

A speck appeared, and as he saw it Dusty 
relapsed into a sullen silence. He sat down on 
the shore, idly flipping stones into the water. 
Gradually the boat drew nearer until Becky 
thought she could make out the figures of the 
other members of the party. 

Dusty, however, could not lose his good humor 
long and, at this instant, he grinned over the 
water at Becky. 

“Guess it was a mean trick, Captain Becky,” 
he called. “Take me in, won’t you, an’ call things 
square ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Honest, Dusty ? ’ ’ Becky hesitated. 

“Cross my heart!” 

The girl perceived that he was in earnest and 
without more ado she caught up the boat hook 
and poled the boat to shore. At the same moment 
a shout went up from the approaching boat and 
Dusty leaped in and started his engine. 

“Need any help, Dusty?” came the voice of 
Billy Humphrey. 

“Takin’ a stroll on shore?” queried Schuyler, 
the other boat rounding up alongside the Loafer. 
Becky’s relenting had come too late. Those in 


88 Captain Becky 9 s Masquerade 

the other boat, primed by Schuyler, shot a storm 
of chaffing at Dusty. The red-haired boy only 
responded with a grin as the boats proceeded. 

Finally, however, he advanced his speed-lever. 
Jack’s boat, a good deal slower, fell behind at 
once and the Loafer sped up to the dock a good 
half mile ahead. 

‘ 4 Guess I ’ll let you out here, ’ ’ announced Dusty, 
somewhat sheepishly. “I’ve got to try out this 
engine. She ain’t workin’ right an’ the grease’ll 
be flyin’ pretty thick.” 

“All right,” replied Becky as Lewis advanced 
to catch the bow of the launch. 4 ‘ Thank you ever 
so much for the ride!” 

Motioning the young mechanic back, Dusty shot 
out in the lake again, leaving Becky on the wharf. 

“Well, did it work?” asked Lewis, eagerly. 

Much to the horror of one or two of her 
new acquaintances who were watching from the 
veranda of the club, Becky shamelessly sat on 
the dock and chatted with the grimy young man 
in overalls. 

“It worked fine,” she laughed, as she told what 
had happened. Then her mind went back to Lewis 
himself. 

“Why, it’s almost wonderful!” she went on. 
“I leave you in Florida and happen to run across 
you up in New Hampshire!” 


89 


A N ear -Marooning 

“Yes,” agreed Lewis, with something of his 
old-time shyness. “Never mind, Captain Becky, 
I’m goin’ to make good yet. Just as soon’s I get 
some coin saved up I’m goin’ back to reportin’. 
It’s mighty fine to be a resorter, but there’s only 
one kind o’ work for me.” 

“Where will you go?” asked Becky, inter- 
estedly. “New York?” 

“No.” Lewis shook his head sagely. “Not 
enough chance. I got a notion that a feller with 
any gumption can strike into a country newspaper 
job an’ make a good thing. I know I got the 
stuff in me somewheres, an’, by thunder, it’s goin’ 
to show up ! ” 

Becky mentally approved the flashing eyes and 
determined chin of the boy, comparing him invol- 
untarily with Schuyler Hatton, who had only to 
be agreeable and live up to his father’s wealth. 

“When are you goin’ back home?” asked the 
boy, abruptly. The Humphrey boat was only a 
few hundred yards off now. 

6 6 The end of the month, I think. ’ ’ 

“Whew!” whistled Lewis. “Makin’ quite a 
stay, ain’t you? I’m goin’ to dig out before fall, 
I reckon. I got a newspaper list up in my room 
at Dustin’s. I’m puttin’ out an ad now in some 
York State papers — small ones in the middle of 
the state. 


90 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

“I want to get a job where I can jump to 
Buffalo or New York when the chance comes. 
’Sides, if I land with a good country paper I’ll 
get more show to do somethin’ worth while — beat 
it, Captain ! They ’re comin ’ a-kitin ’ ! ” 

Becky scrambled to her feet as Lewis dropped 
into the boat below. She awaited the landing 
of the hilarious party in the launch with her wide- 
eyed expression and Dusty dashed in from the 
opposite side of the slip at the same time. 

1 ‘ Oh, you Captain ! ’ ’ sang out Schuyler, eagerly. 
6 1 What happened to Dusty?” 

A chorus of yells came from the others as Jack 
leaped out with the rope. 

“All right, I’m the goat,” grinned Dusty when 
the laugh subsided. He held out his hand to 
Becky, who took it instantly. “I’ll quit, Captain 
Becky — honest. I take off my hat to you. ’ ’ 

“Rub it in, Becky!” advised Billy, heartlessly. 

“Don’t let up on him,” added Lucile. “If he’d 
tried to play that trick on me, I’d have thrown 
him overboard ! ’ ’ 

“Yes, you would!” interposed Jack, making 
believe to throw her off the dock. To his vast 
surprise, Lucile writhed out of his grasp, caught 
his wrist, and jerked him past her headfirst into 
the shallow water. 


A Near -Marooning 91 

“Wow!” roared Dusty in delight. “That was 
a beaut ! Look at him ! ’ ’ 

As Jack’s head appeared and he floundered to 
his feet the others went into another spasm of 
mirth, and Becky caught sight of Lewis doubled 
up in the boat beneath. While Jack was helped 
aboard she turned to Dusty, wiping her eyes. 

‘ ‘ For a fact now, Dusty, are we friends ? ’ 9 

“On the square, Cap! I’ve had enough. And 
say — I — I ’m sorry ! ’ ’ 

Becky met his eyes and her face softened. The 
glance was enough for Dusty and with a whoop 
he seized Jack and rushed him toward the club- 
house to change his clothes. The others followed 
more slowly, gleefully discussing the events of 
the afternoon, and Becky could only exchange a 
mute farewell with Lewis. 

“You ought to have run off with the boat,” 
commented Schuyler to Becky in a low voice. 

“It’s all right now,” laughed Becky, happily. 
“We’ve sworn to be friends from now on and I 
guess he means it. Go easy with him, Sky. ’ ’ 

“Well,” assented the other, half-heartedly, “a 
little joshin’ won’t hurt him, Cap. Shall we stay 
over for the dance to-night?” 

“Please don’t,” replied Becky, quickly. “I’m 
really awfully tired, Sky. Then we were dancing 
last night, too. I’d much rather go home and 


92 Captain Becky 9 s Masquerade 

spend a quiet evening with your mother and 
father. They’ve been very kind to me.” 

4 4 Right you are, ’ ’ assented Schuyler. 4 4 1 hadn ’ 1 
thought o’ that. I’ll get after Jack, then. It’s 
’most four.” 

It was nearly five before they left the club. 
Jack was clad in a spare suit of flannels from 
Dusty’s locker, and had fully regained his 
equanimity. He took his 4 4 joshing” with so good 
a grace and joined so heartily in the merriment 
that Becky involuntarily moved him up a few 
notches in her esteem. 

44 I believe this is the very happiest day I’ve 
ever spent ! ’ ’ she declared as they gave a last wave 
to Dusty, and only Schuyler fully comprehended 
her words. 


CHAPTER VIII 
becky’s dukekin 

4 ‘Now, don’t go so fast, Hump !” pleaded Lueile, 
as the clubhouse and the lake dropped out of 
sight behind. “It won’t be dark for an hour. 
Take the hill road and show Becky some of the 
scenery. ’ ’ 

“ Right-o !” sang back Jack. “This car isn’t 
any mountain-climber, though, and that hill road 
is some bumpy. Here we go, anyhow. ’ ’ 

He swung the big car away from the main road 
into a less traveled one that led up into the hills 
to the right. Soon they were surrounded by 
scenery even wilder and more picturesque than 
that which they had passed through that morning. 
All around them rose the hills, with blue peaks 
towering high to the north, and rugged old Croy- 
den piled up above them in the west. 

Once they shot down through a valley and as a 
little town sprang into view ahead of them Becky 
gave a cry of delight. 

“Oh, do stop, Hump! I want to see those dear 
little houses!” 


93 


94 Captain Becky 9 s Masquerade 

“More like cottages / 9 rejoined Billy, when her 
brother had halted the car on the slope of the 
hill. ‘ i See that little old one np above the others ? 
That’s more than a hundred years old, a good 
deal ” 

“Built before the Revolution, ’ ’ chipped in 
Schuyler, “by one of the real original guaran- 
teed genuine Green Mountain Boys. He’s buried 
in the cemetery over the hill and there’s a tablet 
up on the house.” 

“But they’re all so pretty!” exclaimed Becky, 
admiringly. The little red and green houses, with 
their old wooden shutters and diminutive porches, 
delighted her. The very atmosphere of the vil- 
lage seemed to belong to centuries past, and she 
half expected to see men appear wearing knee- 
breeches and cocked hats. A moment later, how- 
ever, the illusion was spoiled by the sight of a 
very gaunt woman who began to take in washing 
from a line, and Jack started the engine with a 
laugh. 

4 4 Lots of little places like that scattered around 
here,” explained Billy. “Dad took a trip one 
summer and collected a wagonload of old four- 
poster beds an’ things. We got ’em over at the 
farm now.” 

‘ ‘ I was out riding with Sky one day, ’ ’ went on 
Lucile, “and we struck an old stone farmhouse 


95 


Becky’s Dukerin 

that was all falling to ruins. It was in a little 
valley right close to the farm, too, and no one had 
ever heard anything about it.” 

“Let’s get Dusty over some day an’ take an 
explorin’ trip,” suggested Schuyler. Jack was 
having his hands full keeping the car in the nar- 
row road, but he gave a grunt of assent. 

“We’ll take it on horseback, too,” asserted Billy 
with decision. Schuyler and his sister cast hesi- 
tating glances at Becky. 

“Oh, don’t mind me,” she laughed. “I might 
as well learn to ride now as any time. I think it ’d 
be great.” 

Suddenly they plunged down out of the fading 
sunlight into a little wooded valley, full of odd 
twists and turns. It was fortunate that J ack had 
slowed down, for as they turned a bend Schuyler 
gave a yell. Just before them was a wagon. 

Jack slued the car into the roadside. There was 
a lurch, a scream from Lucile and the car stopped 
with such suddenness that the three girls found 
themselves in a heap on the floor of the tonneau. 

“All right,” laughed Billy, pulling Lucile up 
as Becky scrambled back to the seat. “What’s 
the trouble, Jack?” 

‘ 6 Search me, ’ ’ responded Plump, shutting off the 
whirring engine and leaping out. The wagon was 
standing quietly beside them and the driver was 


96 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

grinning unsympathetically. He was a dark, 
swarthy fellow, and the wagon was covered with 
canvas. Beneath it were slung a number of wicker 
baskets and split cane fabrications. 

“ What’d you yell for?” asked Schuyler, turning 
to Lucile, a trifle angrily. 

“We all yelled,” laughed Becky, promptly, 
“and you yelled first.” 

‘ 4 Sky ! ’ 9 came the voice of Hump from beneath 
the car. “Climb down here and lend a hand. 
Something’s all smashed.” 

As the boy leaped out, Becky turned to the odd- 
looking wagon with interest that quickened as 
she saw a second face peering out from behind 
the form of the watching driver. The latter said 
something in a strange tongue and Lucile clutched 
Becky’s arm. 

i ‘ I believe they ’re gipsies ! ’ ’ she whispered. ‘ ‘ I 
never saw any before, but they look like it. ’ ’ 

The man grinned again as if he had caught the 
low words. 

“Ho ye want any help?” he asked, as the two 
boys crawled out from under the machine. There 
was a look of despair on Jack’s face. 

“I guess not, thanks,” he replied. “We’ll have 
to walk till we find a blacksmith.” 

“What!” exclaimed Billy. “Did that little 
bump smash things?” 


Becky’s Dukerin 97 

“Do we have to walk home?” cried Lucile, in 
dismay. 

“I guess so,” grinned Jack, feebly. “Busted 
the transmission, I think. I don’t know where 
we can get any one who can patch her up ” 

4 ‘ That ’s where I come in, ’ ’ interrupted the man 
on the wagon, and he slowly began to descend. 
‘ ‘ Ain ’t no garage in five mile o ’ here that I knows 
on, but I reckon I can fix ye up. ’ ’ 

i ‘ How ? ’ ’ asked Schuyler, in surprise. ‘ 1 Where ’s 
your forge and stuff?” 

The man dropped under the car and chuckled 
as he inspected it. Then he turned to the wagon. 

“Esther! Pen the young ladies’ dukerin while 
I set up the forge.” 

A rather nice looking but not exactly tidy 
woman appeared and climbed down while the man 
went to the back of the wagon. The woman ap- 
proached the car and smiled up at Becky, who 
was nearest her. 

“What did he mean?” asked Billy, with a puz- 
zled frown. 

“To tell your fortunes, dearies!” laughed the 
woman. “We be Romanies, or gipsies, as you’m 
would say.” 

“Fortunes!” cried Lucile in delight, leaning 
over and opening the tonneau door. “Come on, 


98 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

girls! Let’s all sit around in the grass and get 
onr fortunes told. Jack! Sky!” 

‘ ‘ Does 4 dnkerin ’ mean fortune ? 9 9 laughed Becky. 
The woman nodded and smiled again. “And we 
have to cross your hand with silver, of course ? 9 9 

Another smiling nod. The girls seated them- 
selves in the grass at the roadside. Dusk was 
just creeping over the valley and the two boys 
were helping the man lift something out of the 
wagon. A moment later they rejoined the girls 
and sat down. 

“Is he going to fix it!” asked Billy. 

1 ‘ Sure ! 9 9 chuckled Schuyler. i ‘ He ’s got a peach 
of a portable forge there with charcoal an’ every- 
thing. He’s all right.” 

“Give us some money, boys!” cried Lucile, 
excitedly. “Who’ll be first?” 

“I will,” declared Billy, with her usual prompt- 
ness. She held out her hand, the woman pocketed 
the coin that lay in the palm, and all leaned for- 
ward in eager interest when the woman began to 
speak. 

“Oh, dearie, dearie! What a strange girl you’m 
be, to be sure ! My dook tells me you likes to play 
with the young gentlemen and order them about. 
Don’t laugh at the dukerin, dearie !” 

1 ‘ I can ’t help it, ’ ’ smiled Billy. ‘ 1 Go ahead. ’ 9 

“You’m be going to take a long journey over- 


99 


Becky’s Dukerin 

seas, too, on a big ship. My, my ! My dook tells 
me about a lot of money to spend free and easy, 
fine Paris gowns and hats, swell young gentlemen 
to wait on you ” 

6 6 Tell me something new,” laughed Billy. “I 
know I’m going to Europe next year, already.” 

“You’ve got a strange hand, dearie! You’m 
be going to have a bad illness with the throat, most 
likely, but no harm done. I sees a big surprise 
coming before long, a happy surprise. You’m be 
going to have a happy time, dearie, and that ’s all 
my dook tells me now. ’ ’ 

Billy gave up her place to Lucile, disappointed 
that the woman had given her no more details, and 
rather disposed to laugh at her. By this time it 
was nearly dark. The gipsy, or Romany, as he 
called himself, had his forge fire going well, and 
it cast a weird light over the group in the grass 
by the road. Jack suggested lighting the lamps, 
but the others enjoyed the ruddy forge-light too 
well to allow this. 

Lucile ’s fortune proved no more entertaining 
than had that of Billy. She was promised the 
usual good luck, her character was very well 
sketched, and two or three minor incidents were 
hit on by the woman. Becky’s turn came last, and 
as she held up her palm into the light of the forge 
the woman seized it with more interest. 


100 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“ What a hand this is, to be sure ! Not so much 
money, to be sure, but what ’mazing adventures, 
dearie! Let’s see. Firstly, you’ve ’most died, but 
got well again — not so long since, neither! You’m 
be far from home and may be farther before long, 
dearie. But always with friends, always with 
friends.” 

“Why, Becky!” gasped Lucile, but Schuyler 
motioned her to be quiet. Becky only smiled. 

“You’ve had most ’mazing times and my dook 
tells me they took place on the seas, far from 
here. My, what a fate line this is, to be sure! 
You’m been having hard fights, dearie, and win- 
ning them, more by token. I sees more fights 
a-coming, too.” 

The woman closed her eyes and rocked back 
and forth for a moment. Becky, a little fright- 
ened, tried to withdraw her hand, but the other 
clung to it and she desisted. Finally the woman 
continued : 

“My dook shows me big trees, dearie, with 
mossy streamers-like hanging down. There’s 
water all around and a little boat with you on 
the deck and smoke a-coming from her iron pipe. 
Now it’s gone, dearie, and my dook shows me a 
big house with pillars in front. All the shut- 
ters are tight, ’cause it’s raining. There you 
comes on a big horse — Lor’, what a horse!” She 


Becky’s Dukerin 101 

opened her eyes and broke off abruptly. “ That’s 
all, dearie.” 

“I wonder what it means!” exclaimed Billy, 
half believing the woman’s words. “Hanging 
moss would be down south, wouldn’t it?” 

“But the big house might be anywheres !” cried 
Schuyler, excitedly. “Are you goin’ to tell my 
fortune now?” 

“No more, young gentlemen,” smiled the 
woman. “I likes to tell ’em, but it tires a body 
out to see things far away. ’ ’ 

“I wonder what my surprise is to be?” said 
Billy. “I think you might have told us some 
more. You told Becky a whole lot of things.” 

“Billy’s mad because Becky got all the fighting 
in hers,” chuckled Hump. “Likes to play with 
the young gentlemen all right, don’t you, Billy?” 

“Would you like to see the wagon, young lady?” 
asked the woman, addressing herself to Becky. 

‘ ‘ Of course I would ! ’ ’ Becky sprang to her feet, 
as did the rest. “Do you live in there all the 
time?” 

“Mostly. We travels around selling baskets 
and tinkering, but it’s a poor country hereabouts 
for Romanies. We be going away right soon.” 

“Oh, what a darling!” cried Becky, delightedly. 
She was standing beside the wagon, the cover of 
which the woman had lifted, and was holding up 


102 Captain Becky’ s Masquerade 

a little girl of two or three years. Black of hair 
and eyes, the baby stared gravely and soberly at 
Becky, amid the admiring comments of the other 
girls, while the man paused to watch with a grin. 

While the three girls admired the decidedly 
handsome baby, the boys returned to the car with 
a sniff of disgust and lit the lamps. A moment 
later the man threw down his tools and brought 
them a newly welded rod. Jack held it up in the 
light of the lamps. 

“By golly, that’s fine work! I b’lieve she’ll 
hold all summer.” 

“Ought to,” retorted the gipsy. “I does my 
work well, young gentleman. Will ye give me a 
lift with the forge?” 

The three of them replaced the still smoking 
forge in the wagon. Then Schuyler removed one 
of the lamps and held it while Jack replaced the 
broken rod and pronounced all shipshape once 
more. 

“Climb in, girls!” cried Schuyler, while Jack 
paid the man for his timely assistance. The girls 
replaced the baby safely in the arms of the smiling 
woman and climbed into the tonneau. 

“All ready?” inquired Jack. With a shouted 
farewell to the Romany family, the party moved 
on once more. The brilliant lamps cut a swath of 
light through the trees of the valley and as there 


Becky’s Dukerin 103 

was little danger of meeting anyone at this hour 
Jack threw on the power. 

“Keep quiet back there ,’ 9 he yelled as Billy pro- 
tested. “I want to get some supper before break- 
fast time ! Bumpin’ you, Becky?” 

“Not a bit — I like it ! ” shouted back the Chicago 
girl, and on they went through the hills. In half 
an hour they struck the main road not far from 
Resteasy Farm and a few moments later Becky, 
Schuyler and Lucile were safe at home with the 
tennis trophy. Billy and Jack refused to stop for 
something to eat, as their parents would be expect- 
ing them and they were too tired to spend the 
evening. 

“So you won the cup, eh?” laughed Mr. Hatton, 
as they sat around the table and told the story 
of the day’s adventures. “Good for you, Cap- 
tain Becky! And all’s square now with young 
Dustin ? ’ ’ 

“We’ll be good friends from now on,” returned 
Becky, happily. 

“Even if the gipsy woman did say you would 
have lots of fighting to do ! ” laughed Lucile. 

“Did you see young Ahlswede over at the 
lake?” asked Mrs. Hatton. 

4 < Oh, yes ! ’ ’ cried Becky. ‘ ‘ And he told me how 
good you had been to him and ” 


104 Captain Becky 9 s Masquerade 

“I got you!” shouted Schuyler. “It was him 
put you next ! 9 9 

“Schuyler!” reproved his mother. “Be more 
careful of your English ! 9 9 

But Schuyler was too excited to care for such 
little things, and in the end Becky had to con- 
fess that Lewis had assisted her in her plotting. 
The others promised not to tell Dusty, however, 
and Becky went to bed without a flaw in her mem- 
ories of the eventful day. 


CHAPTER IX 


BECKY SECURES AN INTERVIEW 

For several days after the eventful visit to the 
Sunapee Club Becky remained quietly at the 
Farm. The first whirl of her vacation over, she 
decided to take things easy for a time. There 
was an excellent tennis court behind the house 
where she had many a game with Schuyler Hat- 
ton or the other young people who lived near by. 

But the happiest time of all was that spent in 
the little runabout with Mr. Hatton and Ruth. 
Becky was never tired of going over the immense 
farm, and her undisguised interest in everything 
was a source of constant delight to Mr. Hatton. 
He had good reason to be proud of his estate. 
Money had been spent lavishly upon it. Every 
one of the wide barns and stables was electrically 
lighted, tile-paved, and equipped with the very 
latest in machinery. 

Becky cared little for most of the live stock, but 
went into raptures over the ponies and horses. 
Mr. Hatton had a number of the finest saddle 
horses and Becky was not long in learning to ride 
105 


106 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

after one of the grooms had given her a few les- 
sons, Schuyler assisting. 

Mrs. Hatton, too, had her claims on Becky’s 
time. Formal social relations were maintained 
with three or four families in the vicinity, who, 
like the Hattons, were spending the summer 
among the hills. On these Mrs. Hatton and Becky, 
with Lucile, made calls in the big limousine and 
received calls in return. It was a new life to 
Becky, but she threw herself into it with her 
usual vigor and enjoyed herself immensely. 

The next racing event on the pony track had 
to be postponed, much to the disappointment of 
all. There had been heavy rains for two days 
preceding and the track was in no condition to be 
used. Becky’s disappointment was greatly alle- 
viated, however, by the arrival of Lewis Ahlswede 
at Resteasy Farm that evening. Her first intima- 
tion of this was when the solemn-faced butler 
gravely ushered in the boy, much to the surprise 
of all the Hatton family. 

“Well, where on earth did you come from?” 
cried Lucile, cordially. 

“It was pretty bad riding, for a fact,” grinned 
Lewis, sheepishly, as he shook hands with every- 
one. “I rode over from Dustin’s.” 

“We’re glad to see you ” 


107 


Becky Secures an Interview 

4 ‘Anything the matter V 9 Schnyler interrupted 
his mother’s rather formal greeting anxiously. 

‘ ‘Nothin ’ much , ’ 9 returned Lewis, uneasily. ‘ ‘ I 
quit my job.” 

There was a chorus of exclamations at this 
statement. 

“Well, sit down!” exclaimed Mr. Hatton, 
jovially. “Tell us what’s wrong, and maybe we 
can fix things up. ’ ’ 

“It — it ain’t that,” stammered Lewis, as he 
sank into the depths of a big leather-cushioned 
chair. ‘ ‘ I didn ’t get fired — I quit. ’ ’ 

“Oh, I see!” smiled Mr. Hatton. “Work too 
hard for you?” 

Lewis was getting more uncomfortable every 
minute, and Becky promptly came to his relief. 

“I’d like to see any work that’s too hard for 
him,” she laughed. “You should have seen him 
hauling the jib and centerboard on the Olivette . 9 9 

“No, it wasn’t that, either,” responded Lewis, 
throwing the girl a grateful glance. “I — I just 
kind o ’ got restless. ’ ’ 

Finding that he was not meeting with the criti- 
cism which he had evidently expected, the boy 
gradually regained his composure and related his 
story. 

“You see, I guess I ain’t made to do reg’lar 
work, ’ ’ he confessed at length. ‘ ‘ They treated me 


108 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

fine an’ I ain’t got no kick cornin’, but — well, it 
ain’t like reportin’. That’s what I wanted to see 
yon folks about. You’ve been awful good to me 
an’ I hope you won’t get sore ” 

4 ‘Nonsense!” laughed Mr. Hatton. “I’m glad 
to see that you have the ambition to want some- 
thing better, my boy.” 

Becky nodded eagerly and Lewis flushed a little. 

“I don’t know’s reportin’ is better he said, 
“but it’s more my kind o’ work, somehow. I been 
at Dustin’s all summer an’ now I’ve got some 
money saved up. I borrowed one o’ their horses 
an’ rode over ” 

“Look here,” broke in Schuyler, eagerly, “you 
stay right here for a few days, will you!” 

‘ ‘ Here ? ’ ’ repeated Lewis, in amazement. ‘ ‘ Why 
— why ” 

To Becky’s unbounded surprise, Mrs. Hatton 
smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, Lewis, we would be very glad to have 
you. ’ ’ 

“But I ain’t got my things,” said the boy, in 
dismay. “An’ the horse ” 

“Never mind that,” declared Schuyler. “We’ll 
send over for them. The horse can wait. Captain 
Becky an’ I’ll take your case in hand an’ get you 
settled for keeps.” 


Becky Secures an Interview 109 

The boy, flushed and embarrassed, could only 
nod. 

“Good!” cried Becky, in delight. “Now, what 
about that advertisement scheme of yours?” 

6 6 I gave it up, ’ ’ said Lewis, after explaining his 
plan to the others. “I thought mebbe I’d see you 
folks first about it.” 

“Hm!” reflected Mr. Hatton, thoughtfully. 
“Are you set on going to New York, Lewis?” 

“Why, no, I ain’t exactly set on it,” returned 
the boy, doubtfully. ‘ ‘ Only I thought there might 
be a better show over there. ’ ’ 

“I suppose you wouldn’t consider staying 
around here?” 

“Sure, I would,” returned Lewis, promptly, “if 
I could get a job that looked like it had any chance 
to work up.” 

Becky gazed at Mr. Hatton in breathless sus- 
pense. He seemed to be pleased by the ready 
answer of the boy. 

“Well,” he replied, slowly, “I think there is a 
very good chance, indeed, Lewis. At Cornish Flats 
there is a paper called the Record , owned by a Mr. 
Downs. It is a daily and weekly, and makes a 
specialty of the news of the farms all around here, 
such as mine, Mr. Humphrey’s, Yon Platen’s, and 
the rest. It also ‘covers’ what goes on at the 


110 Captain Becky’ s Masquerade 

Sunapee Club. It has a pretty big circulation all 
through the country. 

“Now, you might get a job there. I don’t know 
Mr. Downs personally and I can’t help you with 
him, but his paper is a good one and I really don ’t 
think you could do better. ’ ’ 

“Thank you, sir,” replied the boy, his eyes 
flashing. “I’ll go over there in the morning and 
see him about it.” 

Becky smiled as she watched the animated boy. 
She well knew that he was in a full-fledged dream 
of greatness and her thoughts were still busy 
with him an hour later, when she had gone up to 
her room. 

“I don’t know,” she murmured, as she pre- 
pared for bed. “Lewis is just a little too sure 
about things. I’m afraid he’ll run up against a 
wall some day. But the shock will do him good, 
maybe. ’ ’ 

How close Lewis was to his “blank wall” she 
did not find out until the next morning. After 
breakfast Lewis and Schuyler went together to 
inspect some fishing supplies, while Becky and 
Lucile struck out to the tennis courts, the day 
being a fine one. 

Becky was so absorbed in tennis, then in chang- 
ing her dress and looking over a new one which 
arrived from New York for Lucile, that she gave 


Ill 


Becky Secures an Interview 

no thought to Lewis. Her first thought of him 
was when she emerged on the wide veranda, 
shortly before lunch, and found Lewis there, 
plunged in profound dejection. 

“ Why, what’s the matter!” she exclaimed, sym- 
pathetically. 

The boy did not answer at once. When he 
looked up there was a droop to his mouth that 
Becky had never seen there before. 

“I rode over to the Flats a while ago,” he 
responded at last. 

“To see the paper man!” suggested the girl, 
eagerly. 

“ Yes, ” Lewis nodded. i i I seen him, all right . 9 9 

“Well, what’d he say!” urged the girl. 
“What’s the matter, anyhow!” 

“I guess I got scared too quick,” confessed 
Lewis. “Mr. Downs was a great big man, lookin’ 
like he wanted to eat you. O ’ course, I struck him 
for a job first crack. He says, ‘Where are your 
references! Had any experience!’ 

“I says I’d had experience on the Melbourne 
Times. ’Fore I could say any more, he asked 
me what I quit for. I says I got fired, an’ he 
chased me out so quick ” 

“Didn’t you tell him why you got fired!” cried 
Becky. “Didn’t you tell him you were stayin’ 
here, and refer him to Mr. Hatton!” 


112 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“I didn’t get time to do nothin V’ returned the 
boy. 4 ‘He snapped me up so short it took my 
breath away.” 

“You’re a great newspaper man!” declared 
Becky, scornfully. “Why didn’t you make him 
listen ?” 

“He was awful busy,” defended Lewis, weakly. 

“Well, isn’t your time worth as much to you 
as his is to him!” 

“I reckon, mebbe,” admitted the boy. “It was 
a dandy place, though,” he added regretfully. 
“Heaps bigger’n the Times office, with a real 
linotype machine, too.” 

But Becky was no longer listening. An idea 
had sprung into her active brain and she was 
grappling with the problem it presented. Finally 
she turned on the boy with a suddenness that 
made him jump. 

“Lewis! You ride over there again late this 
afternoon — not before three o’clock, though — and 
go right after him. You mustn’t let him think 
you’re such a flat failure as all that. Stick to 
him just like you would if you were interviewin’ 
him. I’ll fix it up.” 

u You will!” exclaimed Lewis, in astonishment. 
“Why, what ” 

“I’m goin’ to see him right after lunch,” 


Becky Secures an Interview 113 

announced the girl, with determination. “I’m 
not afraid of him. Hush ! here ’s Lucile. ’ ’ 

While at lunch Becky arranged with Lucile for 
a household shopping trip to the Flats that after- 
noon. An hour later the two girls took the run- 
about, which Becky was quite able to manage by 
this time, and left Schuyler and Lewis looking 
after them, rather disconsolately. 

“You’d think they had lost their last friend,” 
laughed Lucile, waving gayly back at the porch. 
‘ 4 Sky thinks a girl always needs some one to pro- 
tect her. Where are you going in town!” 

“Your mother wants me to buy some stuff for 
the upstairs curtains,” responded Becky. “That’s 
all I have to do, so you can drop me ” 

“Nonsense!” said Lucile. “I’ll go with you. 
Then we’ll get the rest of the stuff together and 
send father’s telegrams, have a soda and come 
home. ’ ’ 

“Oh, yes,” cried Becky, as if in remembrance, 
“while you’re buyin’ what you have to get, I’ll 
run over to the Record office and see Mr. Downs 
a minute. ’ ’ 

“Going to get Lewis a job!” asked Lucile, 
guessing correctly enough. Becky’s temples 
flushed, but she managed to turn the subject 
without revealing her reason for visiting the 
Record. 


114 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

When Lncile entered the one general store to 
purchase the list of small things needed at the 
Farm, Becky turned the runabout toward a small, 
neat brick building which she had already noted 
as the Record office. 

Running up the steps, the girl found herself 
before a long counter, at one end of which ran 
a passageway. Behind the counter sat an angular 
man with only one eye; behind him was a parti- 
tion which cut from view the remainder of the 
office. 

“Is this Mr. Downs ?” asked Becky, as the man 
looked up. 

“Not yet it ain’t,” he responded, and the girl 
shivered a little at sight of his hollow eye. “You’ll 
find the boss in his office. First door.” He 
pointed to the passageway. 

“Thank you,” said Becky, as she advanced and 
entered the dark passage. The first door was 
marked “Private,” and below this was a card 
printed in big, heavy type. Becky paused to 
read it. 

“Collectors, actors, and subscriptions received 
in front. All real money received here. If you’ve 
got it, come in.” 

“Well,” thought the girl, looking at the notice 
a little doubtfully, “I’m not a collector, actor, or 
subscriber, so I’ll go right in. Maybe it’s only 


Becky Secures an Interview 115 

a joke.” With which consoling reflection she 
pushed open the door. 

She stood in a bright, pleasant office, filled with 
two desks, a typewriter, letter files, and — a man. 
Mr. Downs quite justified Lewis’ description of 
him. He was not so fat as he was big. His face 
was irregular, bristling hair rose above his brow, 
a ragged black mustache graced his upper lip, and 
he glared at Becky through thick spectacles that 
made his eyes look enormous. 

“Good morning,” began the girl, timidly, her 
temples red. “I came to see you about getting a 
job ” 

“Sit down,” interrupted Mr. Downs, pulling 
forward a desk chair and rolling it over the floor 
at her. His voice was gruff, but not unkind, and 
Becky took heart. “My dear young lady,” he 
continued, removing his spectacles and looking at 
her, 4 ‘ are you a stenographer ? ’ ’ 

The girl stared at him for a moment before 
she comprehended his meaning. Then her temples 
grew redder, but she only smiled as she replied : 

“Oh, I didn’t want a job myself. You see, I’m 
visiting over at Mr. Hatton’s farm, and it’s about 
a friend I’ve called.” 

“Wanted to see about a friend, eh?” smiled the 
editor. “Well, fire away.” 

“He came over to see you this morning,” said 


116 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

Becky, with some hesitation as to how to proceed. 

“I guess he’ll be back again, but I ” 

“Hold on just a moment,” protested Mr. 
Downs, stopping her abruptly. “Let me get this 
straightened out, young lady. You aren’t talking 
about a young fellow named Swede, are you ? ’ ’ 
“Lewis Ahlswede,” nodded Becky, smiling. 
“Do you mean to say that that kid is staying 
over at Hatton’s and wants to get a job here?" 
His gesture was an expressive one and his face 
showed his amazement. 

“That’s it,” responded Becky. “You can ask 
Mr. Hatton about him if you like. You see, when 
we were in Florida last spring the man he was 
working for cheated me. When Lewis told him 

so, the man fired him. He didn’t get a chance ” 

“That’s all right,” broke in Mr. Downs. “I 
thought he was some tramp printer wantin’ a 
job this morning, so I cut him pretty short. That’s 
how he got fired, eh? I might be able to use that 
kind of a kid.” 

“Well, I just wanted to put in a good word 
for him,” announced Becky, rising. “He said he 
was goin’ to keep after you.” 

4 ‘ Good for him, ’ ’ laughed Mr. Downs. “ I ’ll not 
scare him off this time. But stop a minute. I 
want to speak to you.” 


CHAPTER X 


BECKY BECOMES A REPOBTER 

Becky reseated herself, in some little surprise. 
Of course it was about Lewis that he wanted to 
speak, she thought. Mr. Downs rubbed his eyes, 
wheeled his chair around and looked out of the 
window for a moment before continuing. 

“Your name is what?” he asked, without glanc- 
ing at Becky. 

“Beckwith — Marjorie Beckwith,” replied the 
girl, wondering. 

“Miss Beckwith,” went on the editor, slowly, 
“I’ve been handicapped here for some time. You 
see, the Record circulates all through this piece 
of country and the weekly paper has, or ought to 
have, big write-ups of everything from Sunapee 
Lake to East Cornish. The trouble is that it 
hasn’t been having the right kind of stuff. My 
local reporter quit two weeks ago and I haven’t 
filled his place yet. But I need more than that. 
I’ve got to have some one who knows the ‘ resort- 
ers ’ well enough to write interestingly about them. 

You see, Miss Beckwith ” 

117 


118 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

He was interrupted suddenly by the girl, who 
leaped to her feet and sprang toward the window 
which opened on the side street. 

‘ t There he is now ! ’ ’ she exclaimed, turning and 
running to the door. “I’ll be back in a moment .’ 9 

Becky had caught a glimpse of the familiar 
figure of Lewis astride a horse. As she ran out 
to the street, the one-eyed man staring after 
her in amazement, she completely forgot that Mr. 
Downs had switched off the subject of Lewis. Of 
course his last speech had concerned the boy, she 
thought, and it was lucky that Lewis had not 
waited until three o’clock before coming to town. 

Upon reaching the street Becky saw Lewis at 
the corner, hesitating at sight of the familiar run- 
about. Heedless of the curious village loafers, 
Becky waved her handkerchief and shouted aloud : 

“Lewis! Hurry!” 

The boy urged his horse toward her, pulled up 
at the curb and slipped from the saddle. 

“Have you seen him?” he asked, eagerly. 

“Sure,” replied Becky, breathlessly. “Hitch 
the horse and come in. You’re just in time.” 

Without waiting, she turned back to the Record 
office. Lewis hastily tied the horse and sprang up 
the steps, joining her as she again reached the 
door of the editor ’s office. They entered together. 


119 


Becky Becomes a Reporter 

“I saw him going by,” Becky laughed in expla- 
nation. Mr. Downs nodded and turned to Lewis. 

4 4 We were just discussing you, Ahlswede. Do 
you think you can cover locals here in town, do 
write-ups, and set type on the side?” 

4 ‘ Sure I can, 7 ’ answered the boy, readily. Becky 
caught a twinkle in Mr. Downs’ eye. “But what 
do you want a compositor for ? 7 7 went on the boy. 
“Ain’t that a machine I hear goin’?” 

Becky, turning her head, caught a metallic 
“whir” from the inner offices, while Mr. Downs 
broke into a laugh. 

“You’ll do,” he said. “We have to have bills 
and some job work set by hand, though. How 
much do you want ? 7 7 

Becky watched the boy breathlessly. Lewis 
hesitated an instant, then his eyes met those of 
the editor. 

“As much as I 7 m worth to you,” he responded, 
frankly. “I don’t know what you’ve been payin’ 
an’ it wouldn’t matter if I did. If you want some 
one to make good I reckon you ’ll be willin ’ to pay 
for it.” 

“And I am,” chuckled the big man, “if you 
make good. Anyway, I won’t starve you while 
you’re taking a chance. That settles you, Ahl- 
swede. Now for you , Miss Beckwith.” 


120 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“Me?” repeated Becky, rising. “Why, what 
do you mean? Where do I come in?” 

“To tell the truth,” responded Mr. Downs, 
glancing keenly at her, “I’m hesitating a little 
about proposing it to a guest of the Hattons. But 
when another of their guests takes a job with me, 
I’m ready for anything. It’s like this : 

“As I started to tell you, I want to build up 
the weekly Record through the surrounding coun- 
try by intimate stories of the big estates and 
their owners. The employees on these farms alone 
would make a good-sized subscription list. This 
season is about over, but I’d like to end it well. 
I can’t spare a man, or get one, for that matter, 
to do what I want. But you could do the work. ’ ’ 

“I?” cried Becky, in surprise, her temples 
flushing as she stared at the editor. 

“You bet she could,” broke in Lewis, hastily. 
Then he stopped, with abrupt self-consciousness. 

“If you would,” went on Mr. Downs, “I’d pay 
you city rates — five dollars a column. You could 
fill a couple of columns every week in your spare 
time, send the stuff to Ahlswede here, and he could 
go over it and put it into shape. Would you like 
to try it?” 

“But I can’t write!” stammered Becky, in con- 
fusion. “ I ’ve never even tried. ’ ’ 


Becky Becomes a Reporter 121 

“All I want is the facts,’ ’ replied Mr. Downs. 
“ Ahlswede ’ll do the rest.” 

‘ 4 Then you ought to pay him for it, ’ ’ exclaimed 
Becky. 

“That’s exactly what I’m hiring him for,” 
laughed the editor. 

It was now the turn of Lewis to watch in anx- 
ious interest. Becky thought swiftly of all that 
the proposition meant. She saw at once that she 
was in a position to take it up, and was 
almost nodding her head decisively, when a sudden 
thought occurred to her. 

“Oh,” she cried, “perhaps the Hattons wouldn’t 
like it, Mr. Downs. I’d just love to do it if you 
think I could, but I won ’t offend them, you see. ’ ’ 

“Well, talk it over with them to-night,” sug- 
gested the editor. “I have no doubt that they 
will advise you to do it. If it’s all right, suppose 
you bring in some stuff to-morrow.” 

“Stuff! What kind of stuff do you mean!” 
asked the puzzled girl. 

“Why, copy — writing,” laughed Mr. Downs, 
while Lewis grinned at the girl. “Manuscript is 
always known as ‘ stuff’ in the newspaper office, 
you know.” 

“But — mercy!” exclaimed Becky, flushing 
again. “Why, I couldn’t think of a thing by 
to-morrow, Mr. Downs!” 


122 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“Oh, just write up the Hatton farm in general. 
To-morrow is Tuesday and we run out the weekly 
on Thursday. Give the size of the place, the 
names of the managers of the departments, what 
kind of stock they are raising and how much, and 
a general description of what goes on there. ’ ’ 

“Well, I guess I could do that,” returned Becky, 
doubtfully; “but not about all the other places. 
I don’t know them well enough.” 

“Any of the men on Mr. Hatton’s farm can tell 
you all about the others, ’ ’ suggested Lewis. 

“ Yes, ” added the editor, with a nod. 4 4 Besides, 
I want what goes on socially, too, like parties, 
dances and all that. I have a correspondent at 
the lake who sends me the Sunapee news. That ’ll 
give you an idea. Here, take this copy of the 
paper with you.” 

Mr. Downs folded a paper and handed it to 
Becky. The girl rose in confusion, Lewis fol- 
lowing. 

4 4 Then I’ll come in to-morrow,” she said, smil- 
ing. 4 4 1 ’ll do the best I can, and — thank you very 
much, Mr. Downs ! ’ ’ she added. 

4 4 That ’s all right. I think you ’ll do, ’ ’ responded 
the editor, genially. 

Lewis remained for a further talk with his new 
employer, while Becky, her head awhirl, fled to 
the runabout. She had been gone much longer 


Becky Becomes a Reporter 123 

than she intended and she found Lncile awaiting 
her impatiently. 

‘ 4 Where on earth have yon been?” asked the 
latter. 

“I don’t believe I’ve been on earth at all,” 
laughed Becky. She began to tell Lncile of the 
amazing proposition made her, and then stopped. 

4 * Wait till to-night, ’ 9 she explained ; 4 4 then I ’ll tell 
you everything.” And, in spite of all her coax- 
ing and urging, Lucile could not extract another 
word on the subject from Becky. Not, indeed, 
until they were seated at the dinner table that 
night did Becky make her revelation. She 
had already warned Lewis not to say anything 
about it. 

“I’m glad you have a position you like,” said 
Mrs. Hatton, after the boy had told them of his 
second interview with Mr. Downs. “How about 
your living arrangements ? ’ ’ 

“ I ’ll have a little room upstairs over the office, ’ ’ 
and Lewis’ face was gleaming with interest. “It 
won’t cost nothin’, either. I’m goin’ to move in 
to-morrow an’ start right to work.” 

“Good for you,” declared Mr. Hatton. “I’m 
sorry to lose you so quickly, but it’s the best thing 
for you, I suppose. Remember that we’ll always 
be glad to help you in any way we can.” 


124 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“I wish you’d all give me a little help right 
now,” put in Becky, with a glance at Lucile. 

4 ‘ Oh, is that it ! ’ ’ cried the latter, eagerly. ‘ ‘ Are 
you going to tell the secret now!” Becky smiled. 

“I hope you’ll never fail to ask us whenever you 
do want help,” said Mrs. Hatton, kindly. “What 
is it, dear!” 

“Well, I’m goin’ to be a reporter — that is, if 
you think I ought to, ’ ’ Becky blurted out. 

“A reporter!” exclaimed Schuyler. All gave 
the girl a quick look. 

“What do you mean by the last words!” Mr. 
Hatton said, quietly. 

Becky flushed and dropped her eyes. 

“Well,” she replied, slowly, “it seems almost 
like being a spy, but I guess it isn’t. Mr. Downs 
wants me to write about Resteasy and all the 
other farms for his weekly paper. I told him 
I’d have to ask you about it first ” 

“Hurray!” shouted the excited Schuyler, al- 
most startling the impassive butler into dropping 
a plate. Mr. Hatton silenced him sharply. 

4 ‘ Is Downs going to pay you ! ” he asked. “ It ’s 
not a steady job!” 

“Oh, no,” replied Becky, at once. “Just for 
the next two or three weeks, while I’m around 
here. The season is nearly over, but he wants to 
get everybody to subscribe for next year. He’ll 


Becky Becomes a Reporter 125 

pay me five dollars a column. He said I ought to 
have a couple of columns in each week. ’ ’ 

“ Still I don’t see where we come in,” smiled 
Mrs. Hatton. 

“Why, he wants me to write about Resteasy 
and give it to him in the morning,” responded 
the embarrassed girl; “and about society and 
dances and all that. I thought maybe you wouldn ’t 
like to have me do it.” 

“Nonsense!” laughed Mr. Hatton. “I’m glad 
to see you have the chance, Captain Becky. Noth- 
ing like picking up a little money when you can 
find it lying around. Not only that, but I guess 
we can help you. What does he want to know 
about the farm?” 

Becky related what the editor had told her. 

“Well,” continued Mr. Hatton, thoughtfully, 
“my secretary spends two days a week up here. 
Last month he worked out a pamphlet that I had 
intended to publish, but have abandoned. It gave 
every detail about the farm that you could pos- 
sibly use. I’ll get it for you after dinner.” 

“But,” objected Becky, wonderingly, “would it 
be right for me to use that and then get paid 
for it?” 

“Right?” broke in Lewis, scornfully. “Sure it 
would! Why, lots o’ folks run a newspaper by 


126 


Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

writing it with the scissors! Swipin’ is all right 
enough if you do it right. ’ ’ 

4 4 True enough,” laughed Mr. Hatton. 4 4 No, you 
needn’t worry about that, Becky.” 

4 4 Let’s send in a whoppin’ big lot this time,” 
suggested Schuyler, in his excitement. 4 4 We can 
all help. Lucile, you tell about the dance over at 
Ardens’ night before last. I’ll write up our race 
meetings. Then there’s Helen Hunt’s birthday 
party that Ruth went to to-night.” 

44 I can get that over the ’phone,” volunteered 
Lewis, eagerly. 

4 4 Gracious!” laughed Mrs. Hatton , 4 4 you ’ll have 
us all famous, Captain Becky. ’ ’ 

Becky had listened to the list of suggestions 
with heightened color and growing dismay. 

4 4 But Mr. Downs can never use all that!” she 
broke out at last, in confused protest. 4 4 Why, he ’ll 
think I ’m trying to cram in everything I can, so as 
to make more money!” 

4 4 So you are,” chuckled Mr. Hatton. 4 4 That’s 
just what he wants, Becky. You wait and see.” 

So Becky resigned herself to wait until the din- 
ner was over, but not without further misgivings. 
Then a new idea occurred to her and after a 
moment of dismayed reflection she voiced her 
thought. 


Becky Becomes a Reporter 127 

“You folks can’t write that out,” she said to 
Schuyler and Lucile. 

“Why not!” demanded the boy. “S’pose we 
don’t know enough!” 

“Don’t be silly!” retorted Becky, indignantly. 
“You know I didn’t mean that. But if Mr. Downs 
pays me for doing work, then Vm the one to do 
it — not you.” 

“Shucks!” exclaimed Lewis, hotly. “You ain’t 
got no kick cornin’. He don’t care who does 
the work so long as he gets it in time for the 
weekly paper.” 

“But I do,” insisted Becky, the color flaming 
in her temples once more. “You can tell me 
what an’ how to write, of course, but I’ve got to 
do the writing myself.” 

“Why, we’re only trying to help out,” said 
Lucile, protestingly. 

“All right, Captain Becky, ” exclaimed Mr. Hat- 
ton, with a nod of approval. “Your idea is the 
right one. If Schuyler and Lucile want to Write 
part of your account, then you must pay them for 
what they write.” 

“We don’t want any pay ” began Schuyler, 

excitedly. His father cut him short. 

“What you can do, Becky, is this: That pam- 
phlet is all typewritten, of course. You can give 
that to Lewis to go over and select what he wants. 


128 Captain Becky 9 s Masquerade 

It need not be copied, as I have no use for the 
matter now. While he’s doing this you can write 
the other things.” 

“Oh, that’s fine!” cried Becky, clapping her 
hands in delight. “But I don’t want to spoil your 
pamphlet ! ’ ’ 

“You won’t,” smiled the latter. “I’ve com- 
pletely given up all thought of using it in its 
present form. Besides, I’d be glad to see part 
of it in print. When it comes out, Lewis, you tell 
Mr. Downs to send over a hundred copies and 
charge them to me. A good many of the men 
would like to have them, I think. ’ ’ 

Becky could hardly repress her eagerness to get 
to work, and right after dinner the party scat- 
tered, Mr. Hatton and Becky going in search of 
the pamphlet, Schuyler running to the tele- 
phone and Lewis and Lucile clearing off the 
library table. Becky had started on her first 
“assignment.” 


CHAPTER XI 


DISASTER 

4 4 There, how’ll this do?” 

Becky finished her copying with a sigh and 
handed over the pages to Mr. Hatton for inspec- 
tion. The pamphlet-to-be lay before her, but, as 
it was altogether too long for the girl’s purposes, 
she had been forced to copy out the parts selected 
by Lewis and Mr. Hatton. 

The latter adjusted his glasses and began to 
read. Becky watched him with anxious eyes while 
Lucile was going over her account of the Ardens ’ 
dance and Lewis and Schuyler were busy across 
the table. 

Suddenly Mr. Hatton frowned in his reading 
and looked up at Becky. The girl’s heart sank, 
but Mr. Hatton only laughed. 

4 4 What do you mean by 4 scuttlers’?” he asked. 
4 4 You say that Ephraim Owens, who built the old 
farmhouse here in Revolutionary days, was one 
of the original 4 scuttlers.’ What does that mean, 
anyway?” 

4 4 Why, I don’t know!” Becky turned hastily 

129 


130 Captain Becky 9 s Masquerade 

to the typewritten pages from which she had 
copied, and began to scurry through them. 

“I’ve heard the word before,” said Mr. Hatton. 
“I believe the people about here use it, or used 
to use it, as a slang term of some kind . 9 9 

“Here it is,” cried the girl, hastily, handing 
him a page of the pamphlet. “ It ’s the word that ’s 
been written over twice.” 

4 ‘ Hm ! ’ ’ mused Mr. Hatton, inspecting it. ‘ ‘ Well, 
it does look like ‘scuttlers.’ Davis looked into 
all that pretty thoroughly and, as I have heard the 
word used around here, he must have put it in for 
‘local color.’ I think it’s all right.” 

“Any of the Owens family still livin’!” asked 
Lewis, who had been listening to the discussion. 

“Yes,” returned Mr. Hatton. “I bought the 
place from Ephraim Owens’ grandchildren or 
great-grandchildren, or perhaps there was an- 
other ‘great.’ I’m sure I don’t remember.” He 
returned to the manuscript and, after finishing it, 
handed it back to Becky, with an approving nod. 
“Very well done, Captain Becky. That’ll suit me 
if it suits Mr. Downs.” 

“Did you 0 K it!” asked Lewis. 

“Why, no. Is that necessary!” smiled Mr. 
Hatton. 

“ You bet it is ! ” answered the boy, quickly. ‘ ‘ If 
there’s anythin’ said that ain’t so, or if you ain’t 


Disaster 


131 


satisfied after it’s printed, yon ain’t got no kick 
cornin’ if it’s 0 K’d by you. It’s just to protect 
the reporter that writes it, you see. ’ ’ 

“I see,” chuckled Mr. Hatton. 1 ‘ Very well.” 
And he wrote “0 K — Egbert Hatton” across the 
first page. “Now you’re all fixed up, Captain 
Becky. If Mrs. Hatton doesn’t like what we say 
about the farm she can blame me instead of you.” 

“Oh, I’m not afraid,” laughed the girl, hap- 
pily. “And I guess you aren’t, either,” she added, 
as Mrs. Hatton smiled at her husband across the 
table. 

Schuyler had obtained the details of Helen 
Hunt’s party by telephone and had written it 
up with the aid of Lewis. By the time all had 
finished reviewing their productions it was get- 
ting late. 

“Well,” said Becky, looking down at the pile 
of manuscript rather doubtfully, “if Mr. Downs 
uses all that he ’ll be bankrupt ! ’ ’ 

“Not much,” retorted Lewis. “Wait an’ see. 
That’ll simmer down to not over a column. Are 
you goin’ in to-morrow?” 

Beqky nodded and Schuyler spoke up : 

“I’ll take you two in the big car. That’ll carry 
all your stuff, Lewis, and save haulin’. I’m sorry 
you’re going, though.” 

As the others chimed in Lewis grew red and 


t 


132 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

embarrassed. He was still flushed and awkward 
as the good nights were said and Becky went off 
with Lucile to bed. 

At breakfast next morning Lewis was more 
silent than usual and it was evident that he did 
not take up his work with unmixed delight, by 
any means. Moreover, he could never grow used 
to the presence of the solemn, stately and noiseless 
butler. As he confided to Becky on the first day 
of his visit, he felt like “droppin’ a rock on his 
toes to see if he could jump.” 

Consequently, Schuyler and Becky had to make 
the conversation, and they managed very well. 
Lewis was quite cheered by the time the good- 
byes were said. The touring car rolled up from 
the garage and Schuyler took the chauffeur ’s seat 
himself, after promising his father that there 
would be no “speeding” on the trip. 

“Wait a minute,” cried Lucile at the last 
moment. “I’ll get a veil and go along.” 

Becky sat in front with Schuyler, for Lucile, 
Lewis and all the possessions of the latter — which 
were not so numerous — were loaded into the ton- 
neau. A last farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Hatton 
and the car rolled down the drive. 

The trip to town was not an eventful one and 
the party alighted at the Record office without mis- 


Disaster 133 

hap. Lewis, with Becky close behind, led the way 
past the one-eyed man to Mr. Downs ’ office. 

‘ 4 Well, well!” cried the editor, as they filed in. 
‘ ‘ What ’s all this ? A delegation ? 9 9 

“We’re just starting Lewis in right,” answered 
Schuyler, after the introductions were accom- 
plished. “We wanted to be sure he had a good 
boss.” 

“Well, are you satisfied?” asked the editor, 
gravely. 

“Kind o’,” grinned Schuyler. “I guess you can 
lick him, all right . 9 9 

“But sit down, sit down!” insisted Mr. Downs. 
As there was nothing in sight to sit on, this only 
provoked a smile from all and Becky hastened to 
explain her errand. 

“I brought you in the ‘ stuff 9 you wanted,” she 
said, handing over the roll of paper. In spite of 
the kindly greeting she felt her heart beating 
fast and knew that her temples were red. ‘ 1 Maybe 
you’d better go over it and make sure it’s all 
right,” she added, hastily. 

Mr. Downs took up the story and settled his 
spectacles firmly in place. He passed the dance, 
the birthday party and the first part of the “write- 
up” of Resteasy Farm without comment. Sud- 
denly he glanced up, a twinkle in his eye. 

“Sure about old Eph Owens?” he asked. 


134 Captain Becky 9 s Masquerade 

“ About what?” exclaimed Becky, puzzled. 

“Why, you say that he was a 4 scuttler,’ ” an- 
swered the editor. 4 4 Where ’d you learn that ? 9 9 

4 4 That ’s what Mr. Hatton’s secretary said.” 
And Becky told about the pamphlet and where 
she had procured the story. 4 4 He must have looked 
things up.” 

4 4 Anyhow, Mr. Hatton OK’d the copy,” put in 
Lewis. The editor nodded and continued to read. 

4 4 Well, he said, laying the papers aside, 4 4 this 
looks pretty good, Miss Beckwith. It’ll run a little 
over a column. I’ll send you a check every week, 
after the paper comes out. Does that suit ? ’ ’ 

4 4 'Why, yes,” responded Becky, confused. “ I 
didn’t mean to ask you for the money ” 

“I know,” laughed Mr. Downs, 4 4 but a reporter 
always feels a whole lot better when he knows 
about his salary. Turn in as, much of this kind 
of matter as you can. It’s good and I’ll use it 
all.” 

Lewis accompanied them to the car and as they 
shook hands and wished him good luck he grinned 
at Becky. 

4 4 Bully for you!” he said. 4 4 He liked your stuff 
fine, Cap. You folks drop around sometimes an’ 
see me, won’t you?” 

4 4 You bet we will,” replied Schuyler, heartily. 

44 And if you get a chance, run out to the farm,” 


Disaster 135 

added Lucile. “Or let us know when you can 
get away and we ’ll send the car for you. ’ ’ 

“That’s awful good of you,” responded Lewis, 
awkwardly, as he thanked her. 

“I’ll bring in the next batch of stuff to you,” 
smiled Becky. “I hope you make good, Lewis. 
You may be an owner and editor yet.” 

“You bet I may!” cried the boy, as Schuyler 
started the engine. “So long!” And that was 
the last Becky saw of her Florida friend for three 
days. 

‘ 4 Where do you want to go V ’ demanded Schuy- 
ler, as the car started. 

“Mother wants some curtain stuff changed,” 
said Lucile. 

“While you’re doing that, Becky and I’ll get 
a soda,” returned the boy. 

“Yes, you will — not!” retorted his sister, indig- 
nantly. “You’ll march right along with me, and 
when I get through we’ll all get the soda — and 
you’ll pay for it, too!” 

So, after visiting the general store, they turned 
the car toward a large drug store. As it stopped 
in front Schuyler jerked his thumb toward the 
opposite side of the street. 

4 4 There ’s your friend, Cap ! ’ ’ 

Looking, Becky saw a grocery store of the old 
type. In front were three dilapidated chairs and 


136 


Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

sitting in one of these was a man. Long, thin, 
with straggly beard, he was seemingly dividing 
his efforts between a corncob pipe and a half- 
whittled stick. 

“My friend !’ ’ exclaimed the girl, with indigna- 
tion. “ I ’d like to know what yon mean by that ! ’ ’ 

“Well, ain’t you been writin’ about him?” re- 
turned Schuyler, with a grin. 

“Writing about him!” repeated Becky, mysti- 
fied. “What do you mean?” 

“Why, he’s the fellow dad bought the farm 
from,” explained the boy. “Jeff Owens, his 
name is.” 

“Well, I wasn’t writing about him,” cried 
Becky with a laugh, as she sprang to the ground. 
“I was writing about his ancestor, Ephraim.” 

“There ain’t much difference, ” said Schuyler. 
“Since he sold the farm, Jeff lays aroun’ town 
loafin’ and tellin’ how much coin he’s got left.” 

“Oh!” exclaimed Becky, “I forgot!” 

1 1 Forgot what ? ’ ’ inquired Lucile. 

“I meant to ask Mr. Downs what ‘scuttler’ 
meant,” said the girl, disappointedly. “It clear 
slipped out of my mind. Well, it doesn’t matter, 
I guess. I ’ll take chocolate, please. ” 

Becky promptly forgot all about ‘ 1 scuttlers ’ ’ as 
the talk drifted into the next racing meet to be 
held at Resteasy Track. Then, all their errands 


Disaster 


137 


done, the three returned to the farm. An im- 
promptu tennis tournament was to be held the 
next day, and Lucile was practicing for it with 
great eagerness. 

Becky did not enter in this tournament, although 
all urged her to do so, and she was strongly 
tempted. But she refused stoutly. 

“No, I won a prize,’ ’ she maintained, “and I 
don’t want to carry off another.” 

“Well, you’ve got your nerve!” cried Billy 
Humphrey, who had come over for a game. 
“Think we’re pretty easy, don’t you!” 

Every one laughed as Becky confusedly ex- 
plained that she had not meant to imply such a 
thing. Billy knew this well enough, but she teased 
Becky until the girl suddenly sprang to her feet 
and seized a racket. 

“Come on!” she cried, impulsively. “If you 
think I meant that, I’ll show you that I might just 
as well have meant it! I won’t go in the tour- 
nament, but I ’ll heat you two out of three sets ! ’ ’ 

Billy accepted the challenge with alacrity. Mr. 
Hatton, who was present, took the judge’s stand. 
Becky, to tell the truth, was just a little angry 
at being teased so easily and she resolved to play 
her best. 

And she did, too. The first set went to her by 
a wide margin. In the second Billy only won one 


138 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

game and, although the third was harder fought, 
finally Becky captured it, to Schuyler’s huge 
delight. 

“All right,” laughingly confessed Billy. “I 
guess you’d better stay out of the tournament. 
Anyhow, I didn’t intend to be mean, Becky.” 

4 4 I know it, ’ ’ laughed Becky in return. 4 4 1 was 
too snappy, I guess.” 

The tournament the next day was eventually 
won by Schuyler and Billy, for it was a 4 4 doubles.” 
The prizes consisted of two fine rackets. 

4 4 You’d ought to have one of ’em,” said Schuy- 
ler, in a low voice, to Becky, as the party went into 
the house for supper. 

4 4 Nonsense!” smiled Becky. 4 4 It wouldn’t be 
fair. Anyway, I don’t have to win prizes to enjoy 
myself. ’ ’ 

4 4 Just the same, you should have played,” in- 
sisted the boy. 4 4 The next time you get a chance, 
you just sail in an’ cop everything in sight !” 

4 4 All right, ’ ’ replied Becky, 4 4 1 ’ll think about it. ’ ’ 

Mr. Hatton, too, seemed to think that she should 
have taken part. 

4 4 We could have handicapped you, you know,” 
he declared. 4 4 Still, I appreciate your motives, 
Becky. If we have good weather the rest of the 
week, so the track will be in shape, we’ll hold a 


Disaster 139 

meet on Saturday. I want you to show what you 
can do this time.” 

Becky did not reply, in her confusion. She 
guessed that Mr. Hatton knew something of why 
she had not won her race at the first meet and 
she did not press the subject further. 

But the races were not to come off as scheduled 
that Saturday. The next morning, Thursday, set 
in dark and stormy, and the rain came down 
steadily all day. Becky wrote letters home and 
got a start on her next week’s story for Mr. 
Downs. This was to concern the Humphrey farm, 
which was almost as large as Resteasy, and all 
the “ doings” that went on from day to day in 
that neighborhood. 

On Friday the weather cleared up somewhat, 
although the day was a gray one. Toward noon 
the telephone rang. It proved to be Lewis Ahl- 
swede, asking for Becky. The latter ran from the 
library and seized the receiver. 

‘ 4 Hello?” she called. 

* i That you, Captain ?” came the voice of Lewis, 
hasty and excited. Without awaiting an answer, 
he continued. “Say, there’s an awful muss down 
here ! We ’re in a peck of trouble ! ’ ’ 

“What about?” cried the girl, a vague sense 
of impending disaster making her heart sink 
suddenly. 


140 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“Why, that stuff you sent in. You called Jeff 
Owens’ ancestor a 4 scuttler,’ an’ he come after 
Mr. Downs this mornin’ with a club.” 

“Why, what’s wrong?” gasped the girl. 
“That’s what the pamphlet ” 

“I guess the pamphlet must ha’ meant 4 set- 
tler, ’ ’ ’ returned Lewis. 4 4 Come to find out, 4 scut- 
tler’ is what the folks around here called the 
guys back in Revolution times who skipped out 
o’ joinin’ the army an’ hid out till the war was 
over. It ain’t exactly a compliment. You’d bet- 
ter have Mr. Hatton fix things up with Owens if 
he can. Gosh! he’s mad. That’s all. See you 
later.” 


CHAPTER XII 


OIL ON THE WATERS 

Becky hung up the receiver and turned with a 
pallid face to Mr. Hatton, who had heard her 
excited tones and was standing at her side. 

‘ 4 Well, what’s wrong ?” he smiled. “ Some- 
thing in the pamphlet, I gather.’ ’ 

“No, it’s — it’s me,” stammered the girl. She 
explained what the local term “scuttler” meant. 
“It must have been ‘settler,’ after all,” she con- 
cluded, falteringly. 

To her intense surprise, Mr. Hatton threw back 
his head with a laugh, and Lucile, who had heard 
the explanation, placed her arm about Becky’s 
waist comfortingly. 

“Come, come,” said Mr. Hatton, reassuringly, 
“I’m not at all afraid of Owens, Becky. So that’s 
what the word meant, eh? Come to think of it, 
I’ve heard that before. I guess there’s no great 
harm done.” 

“But there is!” exclaimed Becky, helplessly. 
“Lewis said that Owens went after Mr. Downs 
with a club and that he was awful mad ” 

141 


142 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

“You mustn’t take him literally,” returned Mr. 
Hatton, with a smile. 

Becky saw that Mr. Hatton looked on it more 
as a joke than anything else, and her dismay 
increased. She could tell from Lewis ’ voice, even 
more than from what he said, that it was not 
a joking matter. 

“But I know /” she wailed, despairingly, chok- 
ing back a strong impulse to throw her arms about 
Lucile and give way to tears. “I know from the 
way Lewis spoke ” 

She was interrupted by the sudden entrance of 
Schuyler, who came in with a shout, waving some- 
thing over his head. 

“Here she is!” he cried, exuberantly. “Just 
come up from the Lodge with the mail. Open her 
up, Becky.” 

“What is it?” asked the girl, falteringly, taking 
a paper from the boy. 

“This week’s Record ,” returned Schuyler, 
beaming. “Why — why, what’s the matter?” 

Becky had dropped the paper without opening 
it and, giving way, flung her arms about Lucile ’s 
neck while sobs shook her. Schuyler looked on 
in consternation. Mr. Hatton, realizing that 
Becky did not look on the happening so lightly, 
stepped forward and patted her on the back. 

“There, Captain Becky,” he soothed her, 


Oil on the Waters 


143 


“don’t let it bother yon. I approved what yon 
wrote, yon know, so I’m the only one to blame.” 

“It — it isn’t that,” said Becky, mopping at her 
eyes, ashamed of her weakness instantly. 1 ‘ Only, 
it’s the very first time, and — and I thought every- 
thing was going to be so nice ” 

“Well, what’s the trouble, anyhow?” asked the 
puzzled Schuyler, while he tore at the wrapping 
of the paper. 

“We just heard from Lewis,” explained his 
father. “It seems that Jeff Owens is making 
trouble because we referred to his Revolutionary 
forefather as a ‘scuttler.’ The word seems to 
mean one of the old settlers who ‘ scuttled’ out of 
the way and remained in hiding until the war was 
over.” 

“Golly!” Schuyler looked serious for an in- 
stant, and then burst into a laugh as he unrolled 
the paper. “Say, Owens ’ll be hoppin’ mad, 
won’t he?” 

“He won’t be,” wailed Becky afresh; “he is!” 

“It doesn’t matter in the slightest,” declared 
Mr. Hatton. “I’ve only seen Owens a few times, 
but I don’t think he’ll be apt to cause any 
trouble. ’ ’ 

“I don’t know,” and Schuyler shook his head 
soberly. “I’ve often seen him in town, and he’s 


144 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

a mighty tough citizen, believe me. If he thinks 
he can sting you for anythin ’, he ’ll do it. ’ ’ 

‘ 4 Nonsense!” asserted Mr. Hatton, taking the 
paper. “Here we are, Captain Becky. Come and 
see your name in print . 9 9 

All three young folks crowded about him as he 
held up the paper. Becky’s eyes fell on the sheet 
and she promptly forgot all about the angry Jeff 
Owens, for there, placed in the center of the 
page in large type, she saw the words: 

Resteasy Farm News Letter 

MISS BECKWITH GIVES HISTORY 

“Oh, let me see it!” cried the excited girl, lean- 
ing forward over Mr. Hatton’s arm. 

The article occupied a double column from the 
center to the foot of the page and was signed 
“Miss Marjorie Beckwith” in large type. A new 
thrill went through Becky as she gazed at the 
words. Then she started in to read from the 
beginning. Her delight ended with a rude 
shock when she came to the unfortunate word 
1 i scuttler. ’ ’ 

“Oh, that just spoils it all!” she exclaimed 
anew in dismay. 

“Never mind,” cried Lucile. “I think it’s all 


Oil on the Waters 


145 


perfectly lovely, Becky dear! We’ll go into town 
to-morrow, if the roads are good, and see about 
this Mr. Owens.” 

Before Becky could reply the telephone bell 
rang again and Schuyler rushed off to answer it. 
As the girls gazed at each other in anxious sus- 
pense, a sudden premonition struck Becky. Her 
face paled when the boy reappeared excitedly in 
the doorway. 

“ Father! The Lodge just called up and says 
there’s a Mr. Owens down there who wants to 
see you. Shall they let him by?” 

The Lodge was a tiny house beside the gates 
at the entrance to the driveway, where a care- 
taker lived with his wife. 

“I suppose so,” replied Mr. Hatton. “It’s 
better to have it over and settled right away. If 
Owens is sober, have him sent right up.” 

“I knew it,” exclaimed Becky, in a low voice, 
“just as soon as the bell rang! Oh, it’s awful! 
I wish I had never seen the old paper ! ’ ’ 

“Cheer up!” cried Lucile. “We’ll let father 
attend to him.” 

“Not much ! ’ ’ returned Becky, indignantly. 6 ‘ It 
was my mistake and I guess I can stand for it. 
Anyhow, he can’t do very much to me.” 

“Let me speak to him,” said Mr. Hatton, look- 
ing from the window. They could see a decrepit 


146 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

one-horse buggy slowly coming up the drive. “I 
can handle him without any trouble, Captain 
Becky.” 

“No; it’s my mistake and I’ll make it right,’ ’ 
asserted Becky, obstinately. She had no very 
clear idea of how she was going “to make it 
right,” but she was quite determined that Mr. 
Hatton should not make excuses for her errors. 
So, although her cheeks and temples were flaming, 
she summoned all her courage and met Schuyler ’s 
troubled glance with a look of assured confidence 
which she was far from feeling. 

Mrs. Hatton had by this time been apprised of 
the news and of the arrival of Jeff Owens, and 
she joined the party in the library. A moment 
later the stately butler, in response to instruc- 
tions given him by Mr. Hatton, ushered in the 
famous Jeff Owens. 

The latter seemed dressed up for the occasion, 
for his straggly beard betrayed traces of a collar 
beneath. He entered with a stiff bow and a scrape 
of his head. 

“Mornin’, folks,” he greeted. 

“Good morning, Mr. Owens,” replied Mr. Hat- 
ton, cordially. “Come up to see the farm!” 

“No, I reckon not,” replied the other, cau- 
tiously, his eyes searching the group behind. “I 


Oil on the Waters 147 

’lowed I’d have a leetle talk with Miss Marjorie 
Beckwith, what writes fer the Record .” 

“Oh, want to see Miss Beckwith, do you?” Mr. 
Hatton turned and Becky came forward. Her 
temples were without color, but as Mr. Hatton 
introduced her she smiled slightly and gazed with 
her most artless expression straight into the 
man’s eyes. 

“So you want to see me? Was it ab >ut that 
article?” 

Becky’s smile never changed. She had deter- 
mined to lose no time and have the worst over as 
soon as possible. 

“Why — why, I ’low it was, miss.” Evidently 
her strategy had taken Jeff by surprise. As he 
gazed into the wide-eyed, smiling face before him, 
he seemed at a loss for words. 

“Well, sit down, Jeff,” urged Mr. Hatton, cor- 
dially. “We don’t want to keep our visitors stand- 
ing, you know. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Thanks. ’ ’ And J eff seated himself awkwardly 
on the edge of a chair. Rather to the surprise of 
Lucile, he did not seem at all put out by the splen- 
dor of his surroundings. In fact, he seemed to 
have eyes for nothing but Becky. 

“So you’re that Miss Beckwith?” he said, 
slowly. “Why, ye ain’t no more’n a girl!” 


148 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

“What did you expect to find?” laughed Becky, 
who was now somewhat over her fright. 

“ Well , I ’lowed you’d be kind o’ dried-out like, 
wearin’ specs,” he drawled out with a twang. 
“Excuse me jest a minute.” 

Rising abruptly, he went to the window, which 
was closed on account of the chilly morning, threw 
it up, and spat on the lawn. Mr. Hatton’s mouth 
twitched, his wife and Lucile sat up straight, and 
Schuyler grinned openly at Becky while Jeff 
sought his big chair again, settling himself more 
easily this time. 

4 4 Naow, ’ ’ he drawled, slowly, 4 4 1 kin talk. What 
in time did ye call ol’ Eph Owens a scuttler fer, 
Miss Beckwith?” 

4 4 Oh, I’m sorry,” said Marjorie, with one of her 
straight smiles. 4 4 You see, Mr. Owens, I really 
didn’t know what it meant. I just found out about 
it this morning when the Record called up and 
told me about how mad you were. I’m awfully 
glad you aren ’t really as mad as they said ! ’ ’ 

44 Hm!” The rangy Jeff looked rather dis- 
turbed. 4 4 Wall, I was kind o ’ put out, ’ ’ he agreed. 
4 4 Ye see, miss, that ain’t exactly a compliment.” 

4 4 But it wasn’t her fault,” interposed Mr. Hat- 
ton. He had the pamphlet in his hand and now 
drew his chair next to that of Owens. 4 4 Here we 
are, Jeff. You see how this word looks? My sec- 


Oil on the Waters 


149 


retary fixed this up for me a little while ago and 
as I had heard the word ‘ scuttler, ’ but didn’t know 
its meaning, I thought it was correct. So I 
told Miss Beckwith to go ahead and I’d be 
responsible. ’ ’ 

“But Vm responsible,” interfered Becky, 
hastily. “We’ll make it right any way you say, 
Mr. Owens. I suppose the Record will make up 
for it in the next issue.” 

“I ’low they will,” and Jeff grinned. “Shucks, 
miss, if I’d knowed you was the one, I wouldn’t 
made no kick. Ye see, I jiggered some one was 
tryin’ to get smart an’ I naturally got right sore.” 

“Why, of course!” agreed Becky cordially. 
“Anyone would. But it was just a mistake, Mr. 
Owens. I ’m awfully sorry ! ’ ’ 

“Don’t say no more, miss,” returned Jeff. 
“Fur’s I’m concerned it’s all right.” 

A wave of great relief swept over the girl and 
she caught a look of admiration in Schuyler’s eye. 

“Better stop and get a bite to eat,” said Mr. 
Hatton to Lucile’s ill-concealed dismay while his 
wife looked troubled. But Owens shook his head. 

“No, thanks,” he answered rising awkwardly. 
“I’ll git back to town. An’ say, miss, if ye want 
to git anythin’ from me, jest you come right 
ahead. I know ’most all the folks ’round here an’ 


150 Captain Becky’ s Masquerade 

ef you git stuck when ye’re writin’ jest you come 
to ol’ Jeff Owens.” 

‘ ‘ Thank you ever so much, ’ ’ smiled Becky, hold- 
ing out her hand, which Jeff shook with a terrific 
grip. 6 ‘ 1 certainly will, Mr. Owens. ’ 1 

With a parting grin and a scrape to the others, 
Owens received his hat from the butler and a 
moment later the front door slammed. Becky sank 
into a chair while Schuyler sent up a peal of 
laughter. 

“ Golly !” gasped the boy, wiping his eyes. “ You 
sure handled him like you knew all about him. 
Took the wind right out of his sails.” 

“ That’s what you did,” chuckled Mr. Hatton. 
1 i There was fire in his eye when he came in but 
he went out like a lamb. ’ ’ 

“I think it was just fine!” exclaimed Lucile, 
putting her arm around Becky’s shoulders caress- 
ingly. 

“Why on earth did you ask him for luncheon, 
Egbert?” demanded Mrs. Hatton. 

“Couldn’t help it,” chuckled her husband, with 
a sly glance at Becky. “I like to get you and 
Lucile fussed up occasionally.” 

“Well, you got ’em goin’ that time,” grinned 
Schuyler. ‘ 1 Say, Lewis must be makin ’ good over 
there.” 

“Oh, I hope so!” cried Becky, forgetting her 


Oil on the Waters 


151 


recent trouble. “He changed my story in places, 
though. Maybe he had to. I think I’ll see Mr. 
Owens again some time.” 

“You will? Why, what do you mean?” asked 
Lucile. 

“Oh, just to find out about old times around 
here, ’ ’ replied Becky. 4 4 Maybe he could tell me a 
whole lot of things I could write about. ’ ’ 

“Well, there’s luncheon,” announced Mrs. Hat- 
ton as a gong echoed softly through the house. 
“You’ve steered safely out of troubled waters, 
Captain Becky, so you’ll have to celebrate by eat- 
ing a good luncheon.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


VENETIAN NIGHT 

The next day, Saturday, continued dark and 
threatening. The stormy weather had not only 
interfered with the weekly races, but had created 
a dearth of the usual social activities at the farm. 
This did not trouble Becky very much, for she was 
busy with her second article, about the Humphrey 
farm this time. By evening her fingers were well 
smudged, but her article was nearly finished. With 
no house guests and no plans to carry out, Rest- 
easy truly deserved its name over the Sunday. 

‘ ‘ Oh, dear, ’ ’ sighed Lucile as they assembled at 
breakfast Sunday morning, “we haven’t had 
any fun at all! It’s going to be a fine day, too.” 
Becky glanced out and saw the sun struggling to 
break through the clouds, with some promise of 
success. “I tell you!” continued Lucile with sud- 
den animation. “Let’s take that horseback ride 
this afternoon.” 

“I don’t think you had better,” spoke up Mrs. 
Hatton promptly and decidedly. “A good rest is 
not going to hurt either of you girls. We can take 

152 


153 


Venetian Night 

a trip in the car this afternoon, if it is fine enough, 
and you must not forget that you have a social 
engagement to-morrow night/ ’ 

The three young people stared at Mrs. Hatton 
uncomprehendingly. Suddenly Schuyler leaped 
from the table with an exclamation. 

“By golly! I’d clear forgotten all about it. 
Venetian Night! I guess it slipped away from 
you, too, sis!” 

“I thought of it two or three times,” admitted 
Lucile, “but I always forgot to speak about it. I 
do wish we had a boat on the lake ! ’ ’ 

“What’s it all about?” inquired Becky, puzzled. 
“What’s Venetian Night?” 

“It’s a grand party at the Sunapee Club,” ex- 
plained Mr. Hatton. “It marks the end of the 
season up here for a good many people. All the 
boats and launches are decorated, there’s a pro- 
cession, after dark, with prizes for the prettiest 
boat, and the evening is concluded by a ball at the 
clubhouse. ’ ’ 

“I wish it wasn’t so formal, though,” remarked 
Schuyler disconsolately. 

“I don’t!” cried Lucile. “I’m going to wear 
that new dress Becky helped me fix up.” 

For a moment Becky stared at her, the color re- 
ceding from her cheeks. It had come at last! 
She had a simple party-dress, but at the remem- 


154 Captain Becky’ s Masquerade 

brance of those gorgeous costumes in Lucile ’s 
clothespress Becky felt a sudden impulse to with- 
draw from the Venetian Night party. 

“Why,” she stammered, as the color flowed 
back into her cheeks and reddened her temples, 
“I — I don’t suppose I can wear that party-dress 
of mine, can I ! It’s all I have, though. ’ ’ 

Lucile bit her lips at her own want of tact, but 
Schuyler at once rushed to Becky’s aid. 

1 6 Sure you can, ’ ’ he replied stoutly. 1 1 You could 
go just as you are now. You don’t need fine 
clothes, Cap.” 

“I am rather inclined to agree with Schuyler,” 
said Mrs. Hatton, smiling. “I think your party- 
dress will do excellently, Becky. The ball is a 
rather formal affair but you may be sure that a 
good many of the guests will disregard that. 
After managing a launch all evening it is hard to 
care about clothes. Besides, everyone will be in 
the launches or on the big float where the judges 
are and I wouldn’t wear my best dress, Lucile. It 
is apt to get wet or dirty. ’ ’ 

“No, I’m going to wear it,” said Lucile de- 
cidedly. “I tell you, Becky. You can wear that 
gray one — the other new one.” 

“No, thank you,” laughed Becky, her momen- 
tary dismay gone. “I guess I’ll be all right. I 
read a story once about a man who borrowed a 


155 


Venetian 'Night 

diamond necklace for his wife to wear to a ball. 
She lost it and he went in debt to replace it so his 
friend wouldn’t know it was lost. Well, he and 
his wife worked all their lives to pay the debt and 
then when the friend found it out he told them 
that the original necklace was only imitation after 
all. I’ve always remembered that story.” 

“It’s a good one to remember,” nodded Mr. 
Hatton. ‘ 4 Well, the sun’s out for good, I hope. 
Get ready, folks.” 

The family departed in the car an hour later 
and after a short ride stopped at a little church 
among the hills which many of the New Yorkers 
attended while “resorting.” They stopped at a 
roadhouse for a country dinner and returned to 
the farm after an afternoon ride through the hills 
which delighted Becky. In the evening Becky fin- 
ished her article and it was taken down to the 
Lodge to be mailed. A little later Dusty called 
up from the lake and announced that he and J ack 
would take charge of the girls’ programs if they 
wished. Lucile accepted on behalf of Becky, and 
it was arranged that Schuyler, Lucile, Becky, 
Jack, Billy Humphrey and Dusty were to 
occupy the Dustins’ new boat, the Loafer , which 
was to be decorated. The older people would be 
accommodated in the Humphrey boat, as Jack’s 
father had refused to let it enter the procession. 


156 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

Monday morning Becky recalled something in 
her story that she wanted to change. Going to the 
phone, she tried for nearly an hour to get in touch 
with Lewis at the Record office. Finally recogniz- 
ing the voice of the one-eyed man in the outer 
office, Becky told him what she wanted changed. 
Then she added: 

“ How’s Lewis getting along? All right?” she 
asked, more as a matter of course than anything 
else. The answer surprised her. 

“You don’t want the job yourself, do you?” 
came the metallic voice. 

“What d’you mean?” asked Becky. “Isn’t 
Lewis there?” 

‘ ‘ Sure he ’s here, ’ ’ was the reply. ‘ ‘ Did you fix 
things with Jeff ? ” 

“Yes,” replied Becky shortly, refusing to be 
sidetracked. ‘ ‘ What ’s wrong with Lewis ? ’ ’ 

“Oh, he’s all right,” came the answer. “He’s 
out chasin’ locals right now. Want him to call 
you up?” 

“No, if you’ll attend to that article,” replied 
Becky after considering the matter. “That’s all 
I wanted. ’ ’ 

Returning to the library, where the others were 
gathered, Becky’s face wore such a peculiar ex- 
pression that Lucile commented on it in surprise. 

“I’m thinking,” laughed the girl, telling of her 


157 


Venetian Night 

conversation with the man in the Record office. 
“I think I’d better go over to East Cornish and 
see Mr. Downs ” 

44 Nonsense!” laughed Mrs. Hatton heartily. 
4 4 Can’t you let that poor boy take care of him- 
self, Becky? In any case, you don’t know that 
anything is wrong. ’ ’ 

4 ‘No,” added Schuyler impulsively, “an’ you 
got other folks to bother over besides him. Why 
don’t you work like that for me?” 

“Because you don’t need it,” retorted Becky, 
4 4 and he does. I think he ’s nice, sometimes. ’ ’ 

4 4 He ’s nice enough, in a way, ’ ’ admitted Lucile, 
4 4 but not nice enough for you, Becky. He’s posi- 
tively ignorant.” 

4 4 Ignorant ? ’ ’ protested Becky vigorously, while 
Mr. and Mrs. Hatton listened smilingly. 4 4 Maybe 
he is, if you mean in writing and spelling, or not 
knowing a lot o’ things. But I guess he knows a 
lot that other folks don’t, too.” 

“Meanin’ me, and referrin’ to settin’ type or 
haulin’ ropes,” laughed Schuyler but not without 
a trace of seriousness. 

4 4 You know I didn’t mean that,” answered 
Becky, her lips trembling and her temples flush- 
ing. “I mean the things that make an ignorant 
boy want to learn, that make him ambitious to 
know something you wouldn ’t expect. He may not 


158 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

be ‘nice’ like Jack or Dusty, but I’m more inter- 
ested in him, if that’s what you mean. I can’t 
help it and I’m not tryin’ to. He’s been a good 
friend to me and I’m goin’ to be his friend when 
I can. If he isn’t getting on in his job, that won’t 
stick him. He’ll just keep on tryin’ till he does.” 

Becky paused, flushed and breathless after her 
long speech, the vehemence of which had com- 
pletely checked the astonished Schuyler. 

‘ ‘ That ’s the way to talk, ’ ’ exclaimed Mr. Hatton 
approvingly. “ Lewis isn’t a social light but he’s 
going to turn out a real man. Now, I think I’ll 
end this discussion right here by carrying Becky 
off to look at those three new Shetlands.” 

That afternoon Becky and Schuyler had a close 
tennis match, Lucile being closeted with Briggs. 
Becky gave little thought to her clothes until din- 
ner time, when she descended in her best dress to 
the early meal. At Mrs. Hatton’s special com- 
mand, she had allowed Briggs to do up her hair 
in a new fashion, which not only made her appear 
older but added somewhat to her appearance and 
elicited approving comment from Schuyler and 
Mr. Hatton. 

Becky tactfully transferred the comments to 
Lucile ’s new gown, and the latter girl, who liked 
nothing better than to be admired, was soon in a 
thrill of delight. The characters of the two girls 


159 


Venetian Night 

were admirably shown in their dresses, for the 
pale blue and old gold of Lucile ’s gown was won- 
derfully becoming yet plainly expensive. On the 
other hand, Becky’s plain white dress, touched at 
the throat with a bit of old lace and also at the 
elbows, could not have been improved upon for 
simple beauty. Schuyler was observed to be un- 
usually joyful at her appearance, which fact was 
explained by a pearl-studded fraternity pin nest- 
ling in the lace at Becky’s throat. This drew a 
smile from the Hattons and an appreciative look 
from Lucile, who had long worn one of the same 
kind — but not her brother’s. 

After dinner the party went at once to the wait- 
ing car. The evening had turned out to be a tine 
one indeed and they had an enjoyable ride from 
the farm to the club. As they turned the corner 
of the hill and the clubhouse came into sight Becky 
gave a gasp of delight, echoed by Lucile. 

The waters of the little bay on the shore of 
which the clubhouse lay, already dark, were glow- 
ing with lights. The clubhouse itself was deco- 
rated with Japanese lanterns, as were the 
grounds. Lights of different colors danced on the 
waters and just as they were descending the hill a 
hissing rocket shot up from the pier. 

‘ ‘ Oh, we ’re late ! ’ ’ cried Lucile in dismay. 

“No, we’re not,” asserted Schuyler quickly. 


160 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“That’s only .the signal for the boats to get into 
procession. Dusty ’ll be waitin’ all right.” 

A moment later Louis stopped the car in the 
center of the crowded court, filled with hurrying 
people and blinding lights from other cars. Their 
approach had evidently been noted, for barely had 
the two girls jumped out when Jack Humphrey 
dashed up. 

“Come on,” he panted, then remembered him- 
self, “Good evenin’, Mrs. Hatton. The folks are 
waitin’ for you an’ Mr. Hatton down at our dock. 
There’s no hurry for you but we’ve got to get in 
the procession. It starts from the island. All 
ready f ’ ’ 

There was a general cry in the affirmative from 
the three new arrivals and Becky, taking Schuy- 
ler’s arm, was piloted safely to the pier through 
the maze of motor cars and swarming people. 
Here they found the Loafer waiting but Becky 
hardly recognized the boat. Only her riding-lights 
were lit, and the whole craft was covered as if by 
a canopy. At each end rose a dark shape that 
completely changed her whole appearance. They 
were greeted by a shout from Dusty, however, 
that speedily showed Becky this was the craft, 
and the red-haired boy scrambled out. 

“Hurry up,” he cried, after shaking hands with 
the girls. “Climb in. Billy’s there.” 


161 


Venetian Night 

“Is that where we go in'?” demanded Lucile, 
pausing before a square opening in the box-like 
covering that enveloped the launch. “Why don’t 
you turn on the lights ? ’ 9 

6 ‘ Tell you later , 9 9 responded Dusty, helping her 
inside while Schuyler and Jack assisted Becky. 
“Throw off the lines, Hump. You take the wheel 
and I’ll ’tend the engine. Got that spare spark 
plug?” 

“You bet,” cried Jack, casting the boat loose. 
The next instant the engine started, he leaped in 
and they were off. 

“Why don’t you start the lights?” insisted 
Becky, seated in a comfortable wicker chair be- 
side Billy. Schuyler sat just behind, with Lucile 
forward near Jack. 

“We’re springin’ somethin’ big,” grinned' 
Dusty. “We’re goin’ to stay dark till we get 
’most to the float, over there.” Following his 
gesture Becky could see a blaze of light off the 
clubhouse, behind them by this time, with a mass 
of boat lights around it. “You see, we’ve rigged 
her up like a gondola, all covered over with black 
an ’ gold paper. When we switch on the lights that 
run all over her she’s goin’ to blaze up, believe 
me.” 

“Oh, I see!” cried Becky in delight. “A real 


162 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

Venetian boat. Are any of the rest fixed np like 
that ? ’ 1 

“Not much!” replied Dusty, bending over his 
engine. “All they’ve got are flowers or buntin’ 
or lights. We didn’t run her over till dark so 
folks wouldn ’t catch on. ’ ’ 

“Say, that’s dandy!” commented Schuyler 
eagerly. “You ought to cop the first prize, easy. 
What is it!” 

“Searchlight,” replied Dusty. “We ran in an 
extra set o’ batteries to make sure we’d have 
power enough to run all the little lights. That’s 
why we ain’t been around lately. We’ve been 
workin’ some.” 

Within a few moments they arrived at Goose 
Island where the procession of boats was form- 
ing. There were only a score of boats in the 
parade, for not all of the owners would enter. Like 
Mr. Humphrey, a number preferred to sit back 
and watch, doing their share in the subscription. 
However, those present were the pick of the 
Sunapee boats. All except the Loafer were bril- 
liantly lighted up and decorated and as Becky 
watched the shapes flitting past she wondered if 
the “gondola” could possibly be as pretty as some 
of the other craft around her. 

As the officials bellowed out the numbers, each 
boat took its place and the procession started 


163 


Venetian Night 

toward the club at slow speed. Down the lake they 
moved, the three girls in the Loafer watching 
eagerly as the lights of the float and piers and 
crowding boats drew near. Another rocket went 
up from the club, followed by more fireworks. 
With a roar of cheers and shrieking whistles the 
first boats passed the judges’ float. Then Dusty 
reached for his electric light switch. 

‘ ‘ Here we go, girls ! ’ 9 


CHAPTER XIV 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE 

With the words, the Loafer was suddenly en- 
veloped in a radiance that brought a subdued 
shriek of delight from Lucile. One minute they 
were riding unseen in darkness, staring at the 
brilliancy without. The next, and they were sur- 
rounded by scintillating, dazzling color. Becky 
had only just enough time to realize that the in- 
terior of the “ gondola’ ’ was hung with silks and 
blazing with lights and that the figure of Dusty 
looked unaccountably strange, when she was 
startled by a quick shout from the latter himself. 

‘ ‘ Tend the engine, Sky ! Lean back, girls — drop 
off your veils !” 

With this the red-haired boy vanished. Look- 
ing through an opening behind them, Becky and 
the others could see him standing on a platform 
before the queer up-curving stern, an oar in his 
hand. In the bright lights, reflected twofold from 
the black and gold trimmings, Becky could easily 
make out why he had looked so strange. 

‘ ‘ Oh ! 9 ’ she cried, obeying his last order as she 

164 


A New Acquaintance 165 

turned around, “he’s the gondolier! It’s all too 
perfect for anything ! ’ ’ 

‘ 4 Lean back ! ’ ’ ordered Billy Humphrey sharply. 
“We’ve got to play ladies, Becky. There’s the 
float.” 

The startled Becky, suddenly realizing that she 
was to be a part of the spectacle, felt the color 
flood her face for an instant. Then she leaned 
back and tried to look unconcerned as the others. 
As the Loafer slowly passed the float and the 
swarm of boats, Dusty, using his oar in mimicry 
of a gondolier and the gorgeous interior of the 
craft fully revealed to the watchers, a storm of 
cheers and whistles arose and was echoed from 
the crowd on the piers and clubhouse veranda. 
For fully a minute the uproar continued, until the 
Loafer had followed the other boats past the float 
and drawn up beside the clubhouse dock. Dusty 
jumped out and then, resplendent in sash, blouse 
and all, turned to the others. 

“I’ve got to change my things,” he cried to 
Jack. “You take care o’ the girls.” 

He pushed them out once more and vanished. 
For nearly half an hour the Loafer , without her 
gondolier, sped to and fro, those on board exchang- 
ing greetings with other boats and receiving cheer 
upon cheer as they proceeded. 


166 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

i ‘ Guess there ain’t much doubt about our wakin’ 
things up,” grinned Schuyler to Becky. 

“No, indeed,” she returned, glowing with de- 
light. “It’s beautiful. Do you think Dusty ’ll get 
the prize?” 

“Sure,” put in Jack happily. “They’ll award 
the prizes later but I’d like to bet who gets the 
first one. Well, I guess the fireworks are over. 
Let’s go back.” 

As there was little more to see and the girls 
were eager to be back at the clubhouse, the Loafer 
was soon at the dock once more. Lucile took Becky 
to the rooms allotted to the ladies for the occasion 
and, after a few moments of “general repair 
work,” as Billy Humphrey termed it, all three 
descended to the ballrooms below. 

This was Becky’s first ball and it was destined 
to be a momentous one for her. The men wore 
evening dress, as did most of the ladies present, 
and Becky was quite stunned for a time at the 
gorgeous costumes around her. This feeling soon 
passed away, however, after rejoining Mr. and 
Mrs. Hatton. The Hatton party was one of the 
most distinguished present and the three girls 
almost at once found themselves the center of a 
group of eager, excited boys. Dusty and Jack 
came in for loud congratulations on the decora- 
tion of the Loafer and, before the dancing began, 


A New Acquaintance 167 

the prizes were awarded. The first went to the 
Dustin boat. 

When Becky received her program from Dusty 
she found it filled with names she had never heard 
of, while Dusty, Jack and Schuyler had been ex- 
tremely generous to themselves in the matter of 
dances. This she was too happy and excited to 
notice, however, and the dance began in a whirl 
of gayety such as Becky had never known before. 

Suddenly as Becky and her partner concluded 
a dance, the girl heard a cry of delight go up from 
the Hatton party near by and saw everyone 
crowding eagerly around a tall, slender, unobtru- 
sive-looking young man whom she had not noticed 
before. 

‘ 4 Who’s that!” she asked her partner abruptly. 

“That!” was the reply. “Don’t you know 
Harold Webster! Come on over. I thought you’d 
know him sure. ’ ’ 

“I’ve heard a lot about him,” responded Becky 
eagerly. Webster was a special favorite of Mrs. 
Hatton’s, although he had not been at the farm 
during the summer. He was a star reporter on 
one of the New York papers, and Becky knew that 
his appearance was unexpected here. He was not 
only a reporter, however, but a short-story writer 
of no little fame and the girl had heard many 
stories from Schuyler of his deeds in the Mexican 


168 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

mountains where he had been a war correspond- 
ent. So it was with no little excitement that Becky 
accompanied her partner toward the group. 

Webster was just shaking hands with Billy, 
greeting her with a hearty comradeship that ap- 
pealed to Becky instantly. As her partner spoke 
he wheeled around. 

‘ 4 Hello, Jacky, old boy. Glad to see you.” He 
turned with a smile as Becky was introduced. 
“So this is Miss Beckwith? I suppose I ought to 
call you that, although I’ve heard so much of 
Captain Becky that that seems more appro- 
priate. ’ ’ 

“And I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Webster,” 
replied Becky, her temples reddening as she met 
the twinkling, snapping black eyes of the young 
writer and took his hand. “I’m awfully glad to 
meet a real writer ! ’ ’ 

“Perhaps you can give her some pointers,” 
came a laughing voice, and Becky saw Mr. Downs 
standing beside her. “How are you, Webster?” 

“Pointers?” repeated the writer, smiling. 

“Miss Beckwith is doing a bit of writing for 
me,” explained the editor, “and doing it very well 
too.” 

Becky grew redder and redder but fought off 
her embarrassment as best she could, making light 


A New Acquaintance 169 

of her work. To her surprise Webster seemed to 
forget the crowd around him. 

‘ ‘ Can you spare me a dance, Miss Beckwith ? I 
just got in, or ” he paused. 

6 1 My program is all full, ’ ’ returned Becky help- 
lessly. “Let’s see, I have the next dance with 
Dusty. He has two more — Oh, you see he filled my 
program for me, so I guess I can take one of his, 
can’t I?” 

“You certainly ought to,” smiled Webster, his 
eyes twinkling again at sight of Dusty hovering 
around. “Three dances are altogether too many 
for any one person.” 

“You don’t mind, Dusty?” asked Becky anx- 
iously. 

‘ 4 Oh, o ’ course not, ’ ’ replied the red-haired boy, 
although his crestfallen air belied his words. 
“Don’t mind me.” 

“Much obliged, old man,” declared Webster 
and even Dusty’s sudden grouchiness could not 
resist the genial smile that accompanied the 
words. 1 6 There, the music ’s just beginning. ’ ’ 

“Is it true,” asked Becky, as they whirled off, 
‘ ‘ that you helped to fight off the whole rebel army 
from a train down in Mexico?” 

“Hardly,” laughed her partner. “You can’t 
believe all you hear, you know. I feel much more 
at home right here than I did in Mexico. ’ ’ 


170 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“It must be fine to be a real writer / 9 almost 
sighed the girl. With a sudden impulse she began 
to tell him about Lewis, but before the story was 
finished the dance was over. 

“I $ay,” suggested Webster as Schuyler ap- 
proached to claim Becky, “let me take you in to 
supper, then we can finish our talk.” 

‘ < Oh, good ! ’ ’ cried Becky, delighted. “ I ’ll look 
for you later, then.” 

Webster bowed and Schuyler took charge of her 
hastily as if he feared he might lose his chance. 
Becky was full of her new acquaintance and dis- 
cussed him all over again with the boy. 

‘ 4 He always makes a hit, ’ ’ commented Schuyler 
morosely. ‘ ‘ He ’s ’most thirty, too. Why, half the 
old ladies here want to catch him for their daugh- 
ters. Look at old Mrs. Van Brunt over there. 
She nailed him the minute you let go of him . 9 9 

“Silly!” laughed Becky, a little embarrassed 
and wholly excited. “He’s just a good scout, as 
Dusty says. I like him because he ’s a writer, an ’ 
he can tell me an awful lot about writing if he 
wants to. He’s going to take me in to. supper.” 

4 ‘ Huh ! ’ ’ grunted Schuyler. “I’d kind o ’ figured 
on that myself. Oh, well, he’s goin’ back to New 
York in the mornin’ anyhow. Say, wasn’t that 
parade great, though ? ’ ’ 

For half an hour Becky almost forgot about Mr. 


171 


A New Acquaintance 

Webster in the whirl and crush of the dance. She 
seemed to meet hundreds of new acquaintances, 
whose names she could not begin to remember. 
The clubhouse had been wonderfully decorated 
with lanterns and flowers whose clusters hid the 
bright electric lights and gave a delightful soft- 
ness to everything. Becky saw little of Lucile or 
Billy save in passing and suffered from no lack 
of popularity among the younger people. Finally, 
supper was announced and a moment later she saw 
Mr. Webster forcing his way toward her. Jack, 
her partner at the time, resigned her to the writer 
with small grace, but Becky was too excited to 
notice it. 

“Well,” said Mr. Webster, when Becky was set- 
tled before the sandwiches, ices and other dainties, 
“now we can finish our talk. Tell me all about 
this friend of yours.” 

So Becky began. She told about Lewis’ past 
history and of how he had started to work for 
Mr. Downs, concluding by mentioning her fears 
for his success. 

“Some day he’ll be a real writer,” she con- 
cluded, “at least he intends to be. Do you think 
he can?” 

“It’s hard to say,” replied Mr. Webster 
gravely. “You see, Miss Beckwith, all reporters 
can’t be writers, and all writers can’t report.” 


172 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

‘ ‘ What ! ’ ’ The astonished girl looked up in sur- 
prise. 4 ‘Why, I thought all reporters were good 
writers. ’ ’ 

“No, some of them never succeed in writing,” 
returned the other. ‘ ‘ It takes a certain knack for 
reporting and another for writing. Writing de- 
mands ever so much more than mere reporting. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ But you do both, ’ ’ protested the girl. 

“That’s because I have both knacks,” smiled 
Mr. Webster. “Often a reporter is not able to 
write up his story or perhaps he cannot get in to 
the office in time. That is why there are always 
rewrite men ready.” 

“What are they?” demanded Becky, staring at 
her distinguished partner. So evident was her in- 
terest that he smiled again. “I don’t want to 
make you talk shop,” went on the girl, confused, 
“but ” 

“I don’t mind it a bit,” laughed the other. “It 
isn’t often I can talk shop to so delightful an audi- 
ence, Miss Beckwith. The rewrite men are special 
men who stay in the office and write stories that 
come in by phone or rewrite the stories brought in 
by poor writers. Often the very best reporters 
never write a line of the story that comes out in 
the paper. They are paid to get the news and 
they do it.” 

“But you write your own stories, don’t you?” 


173 


A New Acquaintance 

“Yes, because I happen to be able to. You see, 
in the newspaper a story must give everything of 
interest in the first part, then put the details last. 
But in writing a real story, for the magazines, 
it’s just the other way around. A short story 
must develop a plot, it must have an introduction, 
a middle part, and a finish, and a dozen other 
things. That’s what makes it so hard. You have 
to remember so much as you write.” 

“Oh, I thought you just started in and told a 
story,” exclaimed the girl. “That one of yours 
Schuyler showed me, about the Ghetto, just 
seemed like you started in and went straight 
ahead.” 

“So I did,” laughed Webster. “But it took 
me nearly a month to write it, working an hour or 
two every day. Then I wrote it over again three 
times and sent it to six magazines before it was 
taken. I had been practicing writing short stories 
for so long that I remembered all the little things 
without trying to.” 

“I see,” replied Becky thoughtfully. “But I 
don’t have to do that when I’m writing for Mr. 
Downs,” and she explained what kind of writing 
she did. “I just go ahead and tell about it.” 

“That’s altogether different,” returned the 
writer. “You don’t have to pick and choose every 
word as I do and you don’t have to tell a news 


174 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

story like Lewis does. What Mr. Downs wants is 
just the facts, and that’s what you give him.” 

“But how could I learn to write your kind of 
stories?” asked Becky. 

‘ ‘ So you want to be a writer, too f 9 9 laughed Mr. 
Webster, looking down at her. Neither of them 
noticed that the dance had begun again and that 
the dining rooms were being deserted. 

“No,” answered the girl, “I was thinkin’ of 
Lewis. I know I ’d never make a writer if I tried 
all my life . 9 9 

“Well, I’m not so sure,” replied the other. 
“You certainly have the personality that a writer 
needs.” Becky was not sure whether he was 
laughing at her or not, so she continued to meet 
his gaze and let him continue. 1 1 It demands prac- 
tice, day and night ; plenty of experience, and the 
ability to come up every time you get knocked 
down, which is often.” 

‘ 1 Then Lewis ought to make good, ’ ’ reflected the 
girl. 1 6 He ’s getting experience and he ’s a good 
worker and if he doesn’t get discouraged ” 

“Well,” said Mr. Webster as she paused, “if I 
can be of any assistance to you or your friend, let 
me know. I ’ll be glad to do anything in my power, 
for from what you say he seems to be an interest- 
ing chap.” 

“That’s a promise,” cried Becky, her eyes 


A New Acquaintance 175 

sparkling, as she sprang to her feet and held out 
a hand. 4 4 Shake hands on it. ’ ’ 

Laughing, the writer jumped up, took her hand, 
and bowed low over it. 

4 4 Command me at any time , 9 9 he replied. 4 4 It is 
certainly a promise, and you mustn’t let me for- 
get it.” 

They were interrupted by an exclamation. 
Turning in alarmed confusion that sent the fire 
to her cheeks, Becky saw Billy, Dusty and Schuy- 
ler standing behind them. 

4 4 My dance,” exclaimed Schuyler, advancing. 
4 4 That is, if you aren ’t too busy . 9 9 

4 4 We were just going in search of you,” smiled 
Mr. Webster promptly, with a nod of farewell to 
Becky. He then moved off and Billy gave a little 
laugh. 

4 4 Too bad to interrupt you, Becky,” she cried 
teasingly. 4 4 All the mammas have been looking 
for Mr. Webster for ever so long.” 


CHAPTER XV 


LEWIS ON THE JOB 

“How’d you manage it, Cap?” asked Dusty. 

“ Manage what?” retorted Becky, her temples 
flaming. She well knew what they meant but was 
determined to give them no advantage. 

“The way you hooked Harold,” laughed Billy 
good-humoredly. “We couldn ’t help hearing your 
last words, Becky.” 

“You’re welcome,” retorted Becky coolly and 
turned to Schuyler. “Are you going to dance 
with me?” 

A moment later she was away from her tor- 
mentors and realized for the first time that her 
interest in the young writer might have been mis- 
taken for a personal one. 

“I don’t care,” she thought defiantly. “We 
were just talking business and if they don’t like 
it they don’t have to.” Schuyler, however, dis- 
played unaccustomed tact in not referring to the 
incident and Becky soon forgot her embarrass- 
ment. A few moments later she saw Mr. Downs 
near by, as they stopped between dances, and in- 
176 


Lewis on the Job 


177 


stantly her mind flew back to her fears for Lewis. 
Asking her partner to excuse her while she spoke 
to “her” editor, she gained the latter ’s side. Mr. 
Downs, who was not dancing, turned at the sound 
of her voice. 

“Oh, good evening again, Miss Beckwith,” he 
smiled. 

“I want to see you a moment, if you’re not too 
busy, ’ 9 said Becky rather breathlessly. 

“ Not a bit , 9 9 returned the editor. 1 ‘ My dancing 
days are over and I was just thinking of dropping 
out. I am at your service . 9 9 

Without hesitation Becky plunged into her 
story. She told about what the one-eyed man had 
said over the phone that morning and concluded 
by asking directly how Lewis was getting on with 
his work. 

“Well,” hesitated Mr. Downs, glancing down at 
her eager face and sparkling eyes, “Lewis doesn’t 
seem to get on quite as well as he might. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ What do you mean by that ? ’ ’ urged Becky, her 
worst fears suddenly confirmed, but anxious to 
have full knowledge of the situation. 

“Frankly, Miss Beckwith,” confessed the edi- 
tor, “Lewis isn’t just the person I’ve been looking 
for. He doesn’t seem to have the education and 
he certainly hasn’t the writing experience.” 


178 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

“But doesn’t he get the news!” inquired Becky. 
“I thought that was the main thing.” 

“Yes, I must say that he has a pretty good nose 
for news,” admitted the editor. “But when it 
comes to the writing he tries , and that’s about all 
he does.” 

“Well,” spoke up Becky with a very wise and 
knowing air, “can’t the rewrite men ” 

“What?” interrupted Mr. Downs, laughing, 
‘ 6 do you think we have any staff like that ? Why, 
my dear girl, it’s impossible for a country paper 
like the Record to have rewrite men. No, on a city 
paper where the office is equipped with a full staff, 
Lewis would be a valuable news-getter. But with 
us he is hardly that. I ’d like to give you a better 
report but there’s the whole truth for you.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Downs,” answered Becky. 
“Don’t you think he could ever learn to write?” 
She waited with drawn breath while the editor 
seemed to hesitate. 

“Yes. He could. But, you see, we haven’t the 
time to teach him, here in the country. I am really 
afraid that I’ll have to look around for another 
man, sorry as I am to disappoint you. And by the 
way, I’d like to congratulate you on ” 

“Wait a minute,” broke in the girl anxiously. 
“Promise to tell me before you let Lewis go, will 


Lewis on the Job 179 

you? Pm anxious to help him, and I might he 
able to get him a city job.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, I ’ll keep him another week or so anyway, ’ ’ 
smiled Mr. Downs. 4 1 Then if he doesn’t pick up 
I ’ll let you know. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ That ’s a promise, ’ ’ cried Becky eagerly, again 
unconsciously extending her hand. 

“Certainly,” responded the editor, giving it a 
hearty shake. * ‘ I’ll not forget. But perhaps I’ve 
made his case out a little too dark. Sometimes 
these youngsters find themselves suddenly and un- 
expectedly, jump right into the swing of it, so to 
speak. I’m hoping he’ll do that. He has his 
chance to-night.” 

4 ‘ To-night ? ’ ’ repeated Becky, puzzled. ‘ ‘ How ! ’ ’ 

“This is his first real assignment,” returned 
the editor. 

“Why, is he here?” exclaimed the girl with 
eager interest. 

“He was, some time ago. He’s getting names 
and descriptions of everything for this week’s 
paper, and seemed to be working hard at it. I 
noticed him in the reading room with the steward 
just before I came in here.” 

Becky remembered Lewis ’ feeble and ineffectual 
reportorial efforts on the Melbourne Times and 
she shuddered for the boy. She had somehow be- 
gun to feel responsible for him and the fact that 


180 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

he had been thrown into this most formal, smart 
gathering with only his Florida experience to 
guide him aroused all her sympathy. 

“I’m sure you could do it better,’ ’ went on Mr. 
Downs thoughtfully. “You seem to have the 
ability to present facts clearly, at least. Your 
second article came in just before I left the office 
and I glanced over it to make sure there was noth- 
ing more about ‘scuttlers.’ ” He smiled at the 
girl. “It was really very well done, Miss Beck- 
with.” 

But if he expected the girl to volunteer her serv- 
ices for the occasion he was disappointed. She 
was so much concerned about the hapless Lewis 
that she hardly grasped the hint and was little 
interested even in the compliments concerning her 
Humphrey estate story. At this moment the 
dance began and Jack Humphrey approached to 
claim Becky. But, instead of dancing, she asked 
Jack to take her to the reading room, with so 
dazzling a smile that the boy eagerly obeyed. 

“We’ve just time to get a breath away from 
the crowd,” murmured the girl. “I wanted you 
to tell me how you and Dusty fixed up the boat that 
way. I never saw anything so beautiful before. ’ ’ 

With the words, her eyes swept about the read- 
ing room. It was less crowded than the dancing 


Lewis on the Job 


181 


hall but still was comfortably full of resting 
couples glad to take advantage of the easy chairs. 

“Did you like it, really ?” replied Jack delight- 
edly. “It was a job, believe me. But we had a lot 
o * fun out of it. ’ ’ 

“It must have taken ever so long to fix up,” 
returned Becky, her gaze roving around. Sud- 
denly, sitting alone in the gloom on the far side 
of the room, she caught sight of Lewis. His new 
northern clothes made him seem far from the un- 
couth boy she had first known but he was yet much 
out of keeping with the smartly groomed J ack and 
Schuyler, and the girl gave a little sigh as she 
guided her escort toward him. 4 4 The lights made 
it seem just like Venice ” 

She stopped short as Mr. Webster, whom she 
had not observed, sprang from a chair beside her 
with a deep bow. His overcoat lay over his arm 
and he held his hat ready. 

4 4 You ’re not going?” began the girl and Jack 
instantly found himself neglected. 

4 4 Old folks, you know,” laughed the handsome 
young man, apparently not altogether insensible 
to Becky’s girlish charms. 4 4 Yes, I’m afraid I 
must be going. Since parting between friends 
should always give pain two good nights ought to 
be avoided, I suppose.” 

4 4 Can’t you come and see us?” asked Becky im- 


182 


Captain Becky’s Masquerade 


pulsively. Then she suddenly grew cold at her 
thoughtless boldness. But there was no retreat. 

‘ 6 I’m afraid not,” smiled the young writer. 
“Pm stopping over at Cornish with some writing 
friends and we should have gone back to the city 
to-night. We’re off early in the morning. But I 
won’t forget my promise.” He paused, while Jack 
moved away in disdain. “And to make sure that 
you won’t, I wish you’d take my card — my city 
address.” 

Becky’s fright still made her speechless but her 
silence meant something very different. As Mr. 
Webster sought his cardcase her eyes had sud- 
denly lit on Lewis again. The boy still sat in the 
same lonesome chair, unmoving and so wholly 
apart from the fashionable idlers around him that 
the girl was still watching him when her new 
friend extended a small card. 

“Oh, thank you!” she murmured suddenly with 
a gulp. “It’s very kind of you — I know you’ll — 

Mr. Webster, I ” Becky’s whole attitude had 

changed as she paused in confusion, her face red 
and white by turns. 

“What is it?” and Mr. Webster moved toward 
her. “Are you tired?” 

“No,” answered the girl nervously, trying to 
smile. “I’m not tired a bit. I’m just excited. I 
thought of something — an idea. ’ ’ 


Lewis on the Job 183 

4 4 Then I don’t blame yon,” laughed the writer. 
“Use it before you lose it!” 

“Pm going to,” went on Becky, breathing hard. 
“But you’ve got to help me.” 

The gracious young man seemed highly amused 
and not a bit displeased at this bold command. 
Becky turned to her neglected escort. 

“Jack,” she requested, “you’ll excuse me for a 
minute, won ’t you ? ’ ’ 

Hump made a poor attempt at a polite bow and 
Becky turned back to her smiling friend, com- 
pletely dismissing her escort from her mind. 

“You know the boy I told you about?” she be- 
gan. “The one who’s trying to get started in 
newspaper work?” Mr. Webster nodded. “Well, 
don’t look right away, but he’s over there in the 
corner in that big chair. His editor sent him here 
to write up the water carnival and dance.” Mr. 
Webster gave every sign of attention. “That’s 
a pretty hard job, isn’t it?” 

‘ ‘ It all depends, ’ ’ laughed the writer. ‘ ‘ It could 
be done in so many different ways that it greatly 
depends on what is wanted and the paper that 
wants it. 

“Well, the paper is Mr. Downs’ Record and the 
editor wants to have it smart and fashionable.” 

“Then it isn’t so easy. Very good writers are 


184 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

used in the city on such stories as that — although 
they aren’t always proud of the assignment.” 

“But Mr. Downs measures things by what the 
best writers do,” said Becky in dismay. “That’s 
the way he’s measuring my friend’s work. And 
he told me only this evening that Lewis’ job de- 
pends on how he can write about this thing. ’ ’ 

“I see,” mused Mr. Webster. “It does seem 
rather hard luck. ’ ’ 

“No, you don’t see at all,” exclaimed Becky 
sharply, intent on making the other understand 
her point of view. “You promised to help my 
friend, sometime. I want you to do it now . ’ ’ 

“You want me to ” 

Becky drew a step closer and spoke almost in 
a whisper. “I want you to write ” 

“But my dear Miss Beckwith,” protested the 
writer before she could finish. “I must get off 
early in the morning! I wouldn’t possibly get 
time to write up this affair.” 

“That’s not what I mean,” insisted the girl. 
“I thought that maybe you could just write some- 
thing to start it off right ” She paused as 

the reporter, story writer and war correspondent 
straightened up in surprise, his smile almost dis- 
appearing. 

“You see,” continued the girl, with a little 
quiver of her lips, “he can tell all the facts, names 


Lewis on the Job 


185 


and wliat it ’s all about, as well as the boat parade 
and description. But I just know he can’t start 
it right. Start it for him, won’t you? ’ ’ 

The look in Becky’s eyes startled the rather 
blase young writer as he looked down into them. 

“ You mean you want me to do a ‘lead’ for your 
reporter friend?” he whispered with a return of 
his quick smile. 

“Yes, if that’s what you call it. You don’t think 
it would be wrong, or deceiving, do you?” 

“It would be certainly misleading,” laughed 
Mr. Webster, “if your friend pretends it’s his. 
But hardly deceiving. It’s what is done all the 
time in the big paper offices and, although it 
wouldn’t be wrong in that sense, it ” 

“You’ll do it, won’t you?” pleaded Becky. 
“I ’ll let you off your other promise, maybe. And 
maybe it’ll get him a regular job. I’ll be so much 
obliged if you will !” 

“I’m afraid,” hesitated Mr. Webster, “it looks 
too much like presumption on my part, Miss Beck- 
with. I’ve had my own leads cut so unmercifully 
so many times. Perhaps I couldn’t do it any 
better.” 

“I know you can,” exclaimed Becky. “Won’t 
you, please? You needn’t write much — just a 
good start. You can do it when you get home, or 
early in the morning ” 


186 Captain Becky 9 s Masquerade 

Mr. Webster laughed outright, extended his 
hand and took Becky ’s nervous fingers. 

“I’ll do it to-night and I’ll send it to you in the 
first mail in the morning,” he smiled. “And re- 
member, if it doesn’t help your young friend I 
will now feel bound to get him a job in New York, 
or at least a start. I’m glad to do what you ask, 
for you’ve helped me to find something this 
evening. 

“Yes,” and he laughed again as he shook 
Becky’s hand, noting her puzzled face at his last 
words, “you’ve helped me find a new kind of 
young lady that you may be sure I won’t forget — 
in my writing business at least. And now good 
night.” 

“Good night,” repeated Becky, confused and 
blushing again. Before she could say more Mr. 
Webster had bowed, turned and disappeared. 
Dusty instantly took his place but before he could 
relieve his mind Becky recovered her wits. 

“Wait a minute, Dusty. Come over here for 
a second.” Before he could protest she led him 
across the room to where Lewis sat. 

“Lewis,” she began in a businesslike way, 
“when are you going to write up this carnival?” 

“Why, hello, Captain Becky!” exclaimed the 
startled boy, leaping to his feet and shaking hands 
awkwardly and nodding to Dusty. His eyes swept 


Lewis on the Job 


187 


the radiant Becky as if he had already forgotten 
his task. “ I s’pose I’ll do it first thing in the 
mornin’ while I’ve got it fresh.’ ’ 

“Well, yon won’t,” responded Becky promptly 
and decisively, with a mysterious note in her 
voice. “Don’t write a line of it until you get a 
letter from me and then you do just what I’ll tell 
you. Do you understand ? ’ ’ 

“Sure, but hadn’t I better ” 

“No, do what I say. Have you got all the facts ? 
Names and things?” 

“You bet. But I was just plannin’ how I’d ” 

“You quit planning and wait for that letter 
from me.” 

“Yes, but ” 

“Now you’d better go home.” But her smile 
and voice relieved her words of their harshness, 
and Lewis nodded with a puzzled expression as 
Becky said good night and turned at last to the 
wondering and impatient Dusty. 


CHAPTER XVI 


A RIDE IN THE HILLS 

In the morning Becky was the first of the house- 
hold to he up and around. The early mail arrived 
before nine and, although there was a drizzle of 
rain falling, she slipped into a rubber coat and 
darted down to the lodge as soon as she saw the 
mail arrive. She was determined that Lucile and 
Schuyler should catch no sight of that letter, for 
she had been teased so much on the way home 
about Mr. Webster that Mrs. Hatton had finally 
put a stop to it for good. 

Sure enough, the letter was there, addressed in 
a scrawling hand that was most disappointing at 
first. But to the girl’s gratification the “lead” 
was written on a typewriter, and there was a mere 
note from its writer. 

“My dear Miss Beckwith,” read the little note. 
1 1 Here is the lead for the story, with my very best 
wishes for its success. You have my address and 
I would be glad to hear how it turns out. Should 
you ever visit New York please consider that I 


A Ride in the Hills 


189 


am at your service if you have need of a guide. 
Possibly you would like to visit the Press Club 
and other points of interest which a Chicagoan ( !) 
might not always see.” Instantly Becky’s mind 
flew back to her uncle’s parting words at the 
train. 4 4 And, by the way, would you have any 
objection to your Florida experiences being put 
into a book? As I hinted to you last night, I have 
a new and very interesting character whom I 
might make use of in the future! With all re- 
gards to the Hattons, believe me, yours very 
sincerely, Harold Webster.” 

Abstracting this, Becky slipped the paper into 
an already addressed envelope, with a note of her 
own, and left it at the lodge to be sent to Lewis. 

Lucile did not appear until noon, although 
Schuyler and the others were down for breakfast. 
The day was a dismal one, with a misty rain fall- 
ing all morning. During the afternoon this cleared 
off and by evening a red sunset announced that the 
following day would be a fair one. 

There was little activity at the farm during the 
day. Becky occupied herself in writing letters 
home during the morning, and for most of the 
afternoon was absorbed with the pianola in the 
music room. When the family gathered in the 


190 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

library after dinner that evening, Schuyler 
spoke up. 

“I say, girls! Let’s get up a party to-morrow 
and take a ride through the hills. Becky wants to 
see the mountains, and you can’t see anything 
from a car.” 

“ Won’t the roads be pretty bad for riding?” 
suggested Mr. Hatton. 

“I don’t think so, father,” put in Lucile 
eagerly. “They’ve had a day to dry off in and 
you know how quickly these mountain roads get 
in shape. By to-morrow they ought to be just 
right. And we haven ’t had a good ride in ever so 
long. ’ ’ 

Mr. Hatton nodded. Becky’s eyes were agleam 
with interest. “I think it’d be fine,” she broke 
out. 

“Ho you think you could stand a day’s ride?” 
asked Mr. Hatton mischievously. 

“We wouldn’t ride all day, would we?” re- 
turned Becky in dismay. 

“Of course not,” asserted Schuyler. “We could 
start in the morning and take a lunch along. Let’s 
go up past Forest’s Corners, Lucile, and take a 
look at the old quarry. ’ ’ 

“And the old deserted house,” added Lucile, 
excitedly. 


A Ride in the Hills 


191 


4 'Is there a deserted house, too?” asked Becky, 
her eyes shining. 

"Sure!” responded Schuyler. "The one we 
talked atfbut. Just wait till you see it! Who’ll 
we have, Lucile?” 

"Oh, Dusty and Billy and Jack, of course,” 
replied his sister. "Let’s get two more and make 
a party of eight, just for a change. How about 
calling up Gus von Platen and Cecile Arden ? ’ ’ 

"I’ll do it now,” exclaimed Schuyler. "They’re 
just the ones, too. Gus is a sport when you get 
to know him.” 

Schuyler darted out to the telephone booth and 
his sister turned to Becky with a smile. 

"Gus needs some explanation, Becky. He’s 
been in England and acts like a stuck-up. ’ ’ 

‘ ■ Why, Lucile ! ’ ’ expostulated her mother. Mr. 
Hatton laughed. 

"You know it’s true, mother!” defended Lucile. 
"Just the same, he’s an awfully good sort, once 
you get to overlook his affectedness. Last sum- 
mer he and Sky had a fight over at the lake. Gus 
forgot himself when Sky teased him, and sailed 
right in. They’ve been good friends ever since.” 

PAnd who’s Cecile Arden?” asked Becky, 
laughing. 

"She is a very nice girl, indeed,” put in Mrs. 
Hatton. "Didn’t you meet her at the race last 


192 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

week? She wore a wide Leghorn hat with a bine 
bow. ’ * 

‘ ‘ Oh, yes, ’ ’ answered Becky. 6 ‘ The quiet, good- 
looking girl with such lovely hair. I remember. ’ ’ 

“She’s quite a musician too,” added Lucile. 
“Piano, you know.” 

At this moment Schuyler returned, beaming. 

“It’s all fixed up! Gus’ll bring Cecile over for 
luncheon, if the weather’s good. Jack’s goin’ to 
let Dusty know. ’ ’ 

“Then you won’t start till after noon?” asked 
his mother. 

“Right after,” announced Schuyler. “I cer- 
tainly hope the sun’s out.” 

“But what’ll I wear?” asked Becky, in sudden 
dismay. At the frank question Mrs. Hatton and 
Lucile smiled. 

“That don’t matter,” interposed Schuyler, 
hastily. “Gus’ll prob’ly have ridin’ duds, but 
the rest of us ’ll go in sweaters an’ leggings.” 

“Come with me,” smiled Mrs. Hatton. “I’ll 
see what I can find for you.” 

Becky and Lucile followed her upstairs, the 
former not without some inward hesitation. 

“I believe in being sensible up here,” announced 
Mrs. Hatton, as she opened a clothespress. “I 
allow Lucile to wear divided skirts, and the other 
girls have taken to it. There is no reason why 


A Ride in the Hills 193 

women shouldn’t ride astride, especially in a place 
like this. ’ 9 

“Here we are, mother,” cried Lucile, dragging 
out a pile of garments. “These ought to fit Becky, 
too.” 

“They look about right,” declared Becky, hold- 
ing a suit against her body. “I’m ever so much 
obliged for them. ’ ’ 

“Don’t mention it,” laughed Mrs. Hatton, clos- 
ing the door. “It is only an old suit of Lucile ’s 
and you are more than welcome to it. You’d 
better try it on now, so Briggs can change it if 
necessary.” 

Becky hastened to her room and tried on the 
costume. To her delight, it fitted perfectly. So 
comfortable was it that she laid it aside with a 
sigh as she slipped back into her waist — one that 
she had bought from the Daubigny sisters in Mel- 
bourne, Florida. She had dressed to receive some 
callers that afternoon and had noted more than 
one approving glance directed at it. 

In the morning Becky was up early and was car- 
ried off by Mr. Hatton on one of his many spe- 
cial expeditions. It was nearly noon when they 
returned and she found, sitting on the porch, the 
two members of the party whom she did not yet 
know. 

Cecile she had met, or rather seen, at the races 


194 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

and Becky was already taken with the girl ’s quiet, 
self-possessed air. Beside Schuyler sat a very 
tall, lanky youth, clad in extremely correct riding 
clothes of English cut. He rose and bowed as the 
girl was introduced. 

Just a trifle taken aback by his formal greeting, 
Becky remembered Schuyler’s words of the night 
before. Reaching out, she seized young von Pla- 
ten’s hand and shook it heartily. 

“I’m very glad indeed to meet you,” she ex- 
claimed, smiling. 

The somewhat startled boy opened his mouth, 
then shut it suddenly. 

‘ ‘ Aw, ’ ’ he answered at last, ‘ ‘ chawmed, really ! ’ ’ 

i 1 Is that all you can say, Grus ? ’ ’ broke in Schuy- 
ler. But at that moment the Humphreys’ car 
rolled up, containing Jack, Billy and Dusty. The 
party gathered on the veranda with much merri- 
ment and laughter. 

Soon after luncheon Mr. Hatton called up the 
stables and ordered eight horses brought to the 
house. Schuyler, Dusty and Jack were clad in 
sweaters, while Billy and Cecile had costumes 
somewhat similar to those of Lucile and Becky. 

“Looks as if it might rain,” declared Mr. Hat- 
ton, standing on the wide steps as the grooms 
appeared with the horses. 1 ‘ There ’s a black cloud 
over the mountains in the south.” 


A Ride in the Hills 


195 


4 4 Oh, I think it won ’t, ’ ’ returned Lucile. 4 4 Any- 
how, we aren’t going to let a cloud scare us back 
now ! ’ 9 

A chorus of assent went up from the others and, 
waving a last farewell, the party started down 
the gravel driveway in great spirits. They rode 
two abreast, Becky and Schuyler leading. Then 
came Dusty and Billy Humphrey, Jack and Lucile, 
with Cecile and Gus last. 

4 4 How far are we going ? 9 9 asked Becky, as they 
swept out into the main highway. 

4 4 Let’s see,” responded Schuyler. 4 4 Forest’s 
Corners is about five miles. We’ll go past that 
up the mountain and then come home by the other 
road.” 

This program meeting with the approval of all, 
they struck into the mountain road a few moments 
later and were soon among the hills. Becky 
enjoyed herself immensely. Her horse was a 
beauty, responding instantly to the slightest move- 
ment of the reins, and she had only to drink 
in the clear, fresh air and keep at the side of 
Schuyler. 

44 I’m glad we got Lewis landed safe,” said the 
boy, after a silence. 4 4 He ought to make good with 
Downs.” 

44 I hope he will,” replied Becky, absently. 


196 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

i i What’s that funny little house away up there 
on the hill?” 

“Nothing but a farmhouse,” answered the boy, 
with a laugh. “They have the barns over on the 
other side, out of sight from here. We’re getting 
into the valley now that leads up to Forest’s Cor- 
ners. Ain’t it great?” 

“Oh, it’s just beautiful!” exclaimed Becky, as 
the valley opened out below them and they started 
down. On either hand lay little farms, the im- 
mense New Hampshire hay-barns behind them. 
All around were the mountains, and Schuyler 
pointed ahead to a towering mass of granite. 

“There’s the Corners — that little splotch o’ 
white ’bout halfway up.” 

“An’ there’s somethin’ else, too,” broke in 
Dusty from behind. “Look back of us.” 

Becky turned and gave a little gasp of alarm. 
Rising behind them, with its darkness merging 
into the hills below and to the west, was a great 
inky cloud extending nearly halfway up the sky. 
A chorus of cries went up as the girls saw it. 

“Do you think we’ll have a storm?” asked 
Cecile, a trifle fearfully. 

“Mebbe,” grinned Hump, maliciously. 

‘ ‘ Shucks ! W e won ’t, neither, ’ ’ declared Schuy- 
ler, with confidence. “It ain’t heading this way.” 

4 4 Looks to me as if it was heading every way, ’ ’ 


A Ride in the Rills 197 

stated Billy, looking over her shoulder at the 
slowly moving mass. 

4 4 It ’ll pass over, ’ ’ said Dusty. 4 4 Anyhow, we ’re 
nearer the Corners than we are home. Go ahead, 
Sky.” 

When they reached the Corners, which was 
merely a straggling village of a few houses and 
two stores, the sky did not look nearly so threat- 
ening. Gus, who had had most of his high man- 
ners shaken out of him on the way, urged vigor- 
ously that they finish the journey to the top of 
the mountain. 

4 4 You ’re the only one with any duds to spoil,” 
retorted Billy, 4 4 so if you get wet don ’t blame us ! 
Let’s go on.” 

Becky seconded her willingly and they rode 
through the Corners with hardly a stop, pausing 
only to give the horses a swallow of water. Up 
and up the winding mountain road they went, for- 
getting everything in the glorious scenery that 
lay outspread below them. Becky was so absorbed 
that she did not notice how the sun was gradually 
fading from sight, until a sudden shadow plunged 
the valleys below into deeper purple, and the 
party realized that the storm had not passed over. 

They were nearly at the mountain crest and the 
roads, still muddy and heavy from the recent 
storms, made rather hard going for the horses. 


198 Captain Becky’ s Masquerade 

As the sun died out there came a keen put! of 
wind that brought a gasp from the girls. 

“Good gracious !” cried Lucile, in alarm. 
“There’s going to be a big storm!” 

“It isn’t going to be, either,” added Cecile, with 
a shiver, as a big raindrop splashed on her hand. 
“It’s here ! And we ’ ’ 

She was cut short by a muttering, rolling crackle 
of thunder, as a jagged streak of fire ran across 
the horizon. With startled shrieks, the girls 
pulled up their horses. 

1 1 Here ’s the rain ! ’ ’ cried Becky. 6 ‘ Where ’ll we 
go, boys?” 

“Go back — and mighty quick, too!” exclaimed 
Dusty. 

“There’s a bunch of trees back a little way,” 
shouted Schuyler. “We’ll get under them first.” 

The horses picked their way down the winding, 
rocky road with care, splashing through the mud 
until the whole party was liberally bespattered. 
Crash after crash of thunder rolled around the 
mountain and the rain came down in blinding 
torrents. 

‘ 1 This is awful ! ’ ’ gasped Billy, holding on fran- 
tically to her saddle and the horse’s mane. “Are 
we almost there?” 

“You bet ! ’ ’ returned J ack. Before them loomed 
a group of trees bent far over by the force of 


A Ride in the Hills 


199 


the wind. Drenched to the skin, blinded by the 
driving rain and thoroughly miserable, the party 
gained a temporary shelter at last. Becky slipped 
from her horse with relief. Although she felt 
uncomfortable enough, she turned to the others 
with a smile. 

‘ 1 Well, we’re caught,” she exclaimed, “so we 
may as well make the best of it. Isn’t there a 
house or something around here where we could 
dry ourselves?” 

The boys looked at one another and all shook 
their heads. 

“I tell you,” spoke up Gus; “Sky and I’ll go 
out and see what we can find. Maybe we can strike 
something. ’ ’ 

“Come on, then,” shouted the other, climbing 
into his saddle. “We ain’t got any time to waste 
fooling around.” 

The next moment they were lost to sight. 
Blacker and blacker grew the sky, while the little 
group beneath the trees huddled close together 
for comfort. 

“Couldn’t we start a fire?” suggested Becky. 

“No chance, ’ ’ returned Jack, gloomily. 4 ‘ Every- 
thing ’s soaked by now. “We’ll wait and see what 
the fellows find.” 

“Brr!” shivered Lucile. “Give me your coat, 


200 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

Dusty — Oh, I forgot you haven ’t any. I ’m freez- 
ing to death ! Aren ’ t you cold, Becky ? 1 ’ 

‘ ‘ Oh, rather , ’ 9 smiled the girl, bravely, although 
her hands were clenched and blue and her teeth 
rattled. 4 ‘We ’ll soon be out of it, though.” 

“Cheer up!” laughed Billy, who seemed the 
most cheerful of any. “Get behind your horses, 
like Cecile is doing.” 

That was a good idea, and the boys held the 
steeds while the four girls grouped together for 
warmth. Chattering and laughing to keep up their 
spirits, they waited for what seemed ages, but 
still no sign came from the two missing boys. 

“We can’t wait here all day,” grumbled Dusty 
at last. “ I ’m goin ’ after them. ” 

“No, you won’t!” cried Billy, sharply. “You 
stay right here. ’ ’ 

“We can’t afford to lose you, too,” laughed 
Cecile. “This storm shows no signs of letting 
up. Maybe we’d better all go together. We can’t 
very well get any wetter than we are now. ’ ’ 

This suggestion seemed to meet with grudging 
approval, and the girls were just turning to their 
horses when Jack gave a shout. 

“There they come! No, there’s only one. By 
golly, something must have happened! Gus ain’t 
with Sky!” 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE HAUNTED HOUSE 

Approaching through the rain was a single 
horse. The next moment all saw that it was 
Schuyler and a general cry went up. 

“Where’s Gus?” 

“Here he is,” cried that young man’s voice, and 
his head appeared over Schuyler ’s shoulder. Then 
it was seen that he was riding behind the other 
boy, and as the two came up there was an out- 
burst of excited questions. 

“The blamed old horse got scared at the thun- 
der an’ threw me,” explained Gus, who was now 
entirely restored to the normal speech and atti- 
tude of an ordinary mortal. “Sky had a job 
findin’ me. The horse made tracks for home. 
Went down the mountain like a streak.” 

“Hid you find any house?” inquired Becky, 
whose momentary alarm had now subsided. The 
two shook their heads. 

“Nothin’ doing,” responded Schuyler. “We 
got to go clear to the Corners unless ” 

“The deserted house!” broke in the girl. 
“Where’s that?” 


201 


202 Captain BecJcy’s Masquerade 

“Sure!” shouted Schuyler. “I forgot about 
that. We didn’t get that far, anyhow. She’s only 
about halfway to the Corners. Come on ! ” 

“Is there a real deserted house?” asked Cecile, 
as the girls climbe " into their saddles slowly and 
heavily. 

“More’n that,” answered Schuyler, cheerfully. 
“It’s haunted.” 

6 1 Haunted ! ” A general exclamation arose from 
the four girls. Dusty and Jack nodded emphat- 
ically. 

‘ 4 Come along, ’ ’ ordered Schuyler. “ I ’ll tell you 
about it as we go. ’ ’ 

“But I’m not going to any haunted house!” 
cried Lucile. 

“Nor I! Nor I!” added Cecile and Billy to- 
gether. Becky alone kept silent. Despite their 
words, the girls began to urge the horses down 
the steep and muddy road. As they picked their 
way, Schuyler drew into the center of the group 
and related the story. 

“It’s a peach of an old place,” he said, some- 
what jerkily. The horses could only proceed at 
a slipping walk, for with every moment the con- 
dition of the road grew worse. “There was an 
old woman lived there, the last o’ her family, I 
guess. Anyhow, she died ’bout four years ago. 
Her nearest folks lived down at the Corners, and 


The Haunted House 


203 


they always seemed to be mighty curious people. 
She left the place to them, o’ course, but there ’d 
been bad blood between ’em, and she put a lot o’ 
queer conditions into the will. 

“The relatives tried to bust it, but they couldn’t. 
It made ’em so sore that they not only wouldn’t 
accept the place, but swore never to set foot inside 
it till the house crumbled. They pay taxes on the 
place, though.” 

“And haven’t they ever visited it?” asked 
Becky, breathlessly. 

“Not them,” laughed Schuyler. 

“Hasn’t anyone ever been there?” put in Gus, 
who was taking turns riding behind the others. 

“Not on your life!” chipped in Jack, emphat- 
ically. 4 ‘ The people say the spook of the old lady 
comes out and plays the piano at night. You 
couldn ’t get ’em to go within ten feet o ’ the front 
gate. ’ ’ 

“Comes out and plays the piano!” repeated 
Cecile, puzzled. “Out where?” 

“You’ll see in a minute,” chuckled Schuyler. 
“We’re ’most there now. It’s just behind that 
bunch o’ trees, back from the road a piece.” 

“What time is it, anyhow?” asked Lucile, 
wearily. 

“Pretty near six,” responded her brother, after 


204 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

looking at kis watch. “I’d no notion it was so 
late.” 

4 4 Six ! ’ ’ exclaimed Becky. 4 4 Why, it can ’t be ! ’ ’ 

4 4 It is, though/ ’ declared Dusty. 4 4 We wasted 
a lot o’ time waitin’ around for Gus an’ Sky. Then 
the climb up the mountain took considerable 
time . 9 9 

As the road swept around a shelf of the moun- 
tain the haunted house came into view. It was 
nearly hidden by a thick clump of trees, and the 
party had been too much occupied to observe it 
on the way up the mountain. An old and unused 
drive turned in off the road and up this the caval- 
cade proceeded, somewhat fearfully. Then the 
house itself came into full view. 

It was an ancient Colonial mansion, with thick 
high pillars in front and at one side a broad gal- 
lery or veranda. This gallery was protected by 
a huge trellis work, on which thick vines were 
clustered, shutting out all within from the view 
of the party. With a sigh of relief the four girls 
slipped from the weary horses and the boys 
started with the latter for the barn which showed 
behind the house. 

Becky led the way to the shelter of the wide and 
somewhat rickety gallery. When she gained it 
she halted on the top step with a gasp of mingled 
amazement and delight. Instead of the wide 


The Haunted House 


205 


open porch she had expected, the fading daylight 
revealed what seemed almost an outdoor room. 
In one vine-sheltered nook appeared a wide, old- 
fashioned fireplace of stone, still containing a half- 
consumed log. At the other end of the curious 
porch stood a weatherbeaten upright piano, its 
top open to the elements and its ivoryless keys 
hanging brown and loose. 

The girls clustered on the steps in awed silence. 
There seemed to be an air of mystery about the 
old place, an air of quiet expectation strangely at 
variance with the rage of the storm outside. 

4 ‘ Well, what are you waitin’ for?” demanded 
Dusty, as the boys returned from the barn on a 
run. 

At this the girls mounted the gallery, with the 
four boys crowding behind them. The rain was 
still coming down in sheets. 

6 ‘ There ’s the spook piano, ’ 9 exclaimed Schuyler. 
‘ ‘ They say the old woman comes out here at night 
whenever she takes the notion and plays a bit just 
to cheer herself up.” 

“Stop it!” cried Lucile, with a little shiver. 
“Ghost or no ghost, I can’t go out in that storm 
again. ’ ’ 

“Oh, well,” explained Jack, easily, “there 
isn’t any ghost, of course. That’s all silly non- 
sense. I guess the piano plays, all right, but it’s 


206 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

the vines swinging against the keys, or the wind, 
or the birds.’ ’ 

As they advanced, the girls could see a door 
set in the wall, not far from the fireplace. It was 
a low, broad door, set half its length with queer 
old diamond-shaped panes of glass, and uncur- 
tained. Becky, feeling not a little nervous, ap- 
proached and looked through the dusty panes. 

“Why, some one lives here!” she cried. “It’s 
a regular house inside. Everything’s there, pic- 
tures and all.” 

“That’s what the old woman left,” explained 
Dusty. “The folks ain’t never touched a thing, 
I guess.” 

4 4 Let ’s go in, ’ ’ suggested Hump, boldly. 4 4 Break 
in the door.” 

At this Becky drew back in alarm. Schuyler, 
however, pushing past her, seized the corroded 
brass knob. 

4 4 It ain’t even locked,” he said, scornfully, and 
he opened the creaking door. Becky’s curiosity 
got the better of her fear and she followed him 
instantly into the musty hall, the others crowding 
behind. In the gloom they made out a stand on 
which stood two dusty candlesticks holding yel- 
lowed candles, one of which was bent double, as 
if with heat. 


The Haunted House 207 

“Light one of the candles, Hump,” cried 
Schuyler. 

The other promptly obeyed. The candle splut- 
tered and flared up as if it were made of the 
newest paraffin, and Schuyler lit the other. Then, 
holding his light high above his head, he stepped 
over the creaky floor to an open door in one side 
of the wall. Becky sprang to his side with a cry 
of delight. 

In a far corner of the room behind the door was 
a big four-poster bed, from the top of which hung 
a faded silk canopy. As if prepared for imme- 
diate occupancy, a knit white coverlet was spread 
smoothly over the couch and two pillows stood 
stiffly at the head with an old-fashioned bolster 
below. 

“Why, it’s just like some old Colonial picture !” 
exclaimed Billy, as all gazed around. Becky was 
too delighted to speak. 

“Look at the darling little fireplace !” cried 
Lucile, pointing to one side of the room. 6 ‘ It looks 
as if the bricks had just been gone over with red 
brick dust.” 

“And the fire’s all laid, too,” added Lucile. 

“Hello! That’s funny!” suddenly cried Gus, 
pointing to the carved wooden mantelpiece over 
the fireplace. There they saw a square clock of 
some dark wood. 


208 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

44 What’s funny V 9 asked Lucile. 

4 4 Why, the clock ! Look at its hands ! ’ ’ 

Becky gave a little gasp as she saw that the two 
hands were pointing to twelve o’clock. Then a 
light darted into her eyes and she moved behind 
the others, who were gazing at the clock with no 
little awe. 

“Do you suppose that means ghosts'?” queried 
Gus, a trifle huskily. 

4 4 Nix on ghosts, ’ ’ laughed Hump. 4 4 It just hap- 
pened that way, that ’s all. Say, look who ’s here ! ’ ’ 

As he held his candle aloft, regardless of the 
melted wax that dripped on his wet clothes and 
on the old-fashioned carpeted floor, all saw an oil 
painting on the wall above the clock. It was heav- 
ily framed and showed the portrait of the face and 
form of a middle-aged woman in Colonial costume. 
Her hair was dressed high and powdered, a filmy 
lace kerchief was about her neck and in her hands 
was an ivory fan. 

Schuyler advanced to Hump’s side and both 
held their candles close for a better view of the 
picture. Behind them were grouped their silent, 
wet and shivering companions. Just as the pic- 
tured face came into better view, a chord of sepul- 
chral, hollow music sounded in the distance. There 
arose one frightened cry of alarm. Then followed 


The Haunted House 


209 


a mad stampede of frightened boys and girls 
toward the door. 

4 4 Stop ! ’ ’ cried Schuyler, trying to bar the way. 
4 4 Hold np ! Hon ’ t get scared ! ’ ’ 

Even as he shouted the low chord came again, 
drifting in from the old piano. The party hud- 
dled together, afraid to stay and yet afraid to 
venture out on the porch. Faint but distinct, the 
notes came : 


— 




n 5*=£=3== — ^ SS a®£=z : 



11 


4 4 Good gracious !” gasped Cecile, the only one 
who recognized it. 4 4 It’s from Mozart’s Don 
Giovanni — the ghost opera, you know!” 

There could be no mistake. No swinging vine 
could make that sure, measured cadence, breaking 
off so abruptly. At the words of Cecile, Schuy- 
ler’s candle flickered out. There was an instant 
shriek from the girls. Then the boys timorously 
edged toward the door and Schuyler peeped out. 

44 Why, there ain’t nothin’ there !” he announced 


210 


Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

in a low, startled voice. 4 4 The skeleton of the old 
piano ” 

4 4 Take a light there! What’s the matter with 
all of yon?” 

It was the voice of feecky from the room on the 
opposite side of the hall in which the frightened 
group stood. “I thought you were coming in 
here, ’ ’ she went on. 4 4 This is the living room . 9 9 

4 4 Did you hear the music?” gasped Billy. 

4 4 Come back!” pleaded Lucile. 4 4 Don’t go in 
there!” 

4 4 Sure, I heard it,” replied Becky. 4 4 It was a 
bird or a vine, wasn’t it?” 

4 4 Birds don’t play Mozart chords,” shivered 
Cecile, with a smothered sob. 44 I want to go 
home.” 

4 4 Pshaw!” cried Becky as Schuyler’s candle 
flared up again. 4 4 Let’s stay. I think it’s a lark. 
I’m just crazy about ghosty houses. This ” 

Before she could say more, muffled sounds as of 
footsteps came from the floor above. That was the 
last straw. In another moment the entire party 
was gathered on the gallery outside, the girls 
clinging to one another in a frenzy of terror. 
There was a sobbing vote to fly at once in spite 
of the rain, mud and night. Only Becky dissented. 

4 4 We never would get home through all that 
mud and wet,” she urged. 4 4 What’s the matter 


The Haunted House 211 

with all you folks? You aren’t scared of an old 
ghost, are you?” 

“We might build a fire out here,” suggested 
Schuyler, somewhat doubtfully, emboldened a 
little by Becky’s words. “ There’s wood in the 
bedroom, all ready to light. Then we could get 
dry, anyway. We could figure out what to do next 
a heap better if we got dried off.” 

“ I don’t want to get dried off,” sobbed Lucile, 
shamelessly. “I want to get away from here.” 

“So do I,” confessed Dusty and Gus together. 

“But there must be a kitchen,” urged Becky, 
“and it’s only half a mile or so to the Corners. 
Why don’t you boys chase over there and get 
something to eat? We can cook it right here or in 
the kitchen ” 

“Fine!” ejaculated Billy, who was herself 
again. But a chorus of vehement dissent arose 
from Cecile and Lucile. Dusty and Schuyler 
sided with Becky, while Gus and Hump remained 
undecided. 

“Well, why shouldn’t we?” argued Becky. 
“It’s lots better than a hotel!” 

“I’m afraid!” confessed Lucile, frankly, al- 
though she had ceased crying. 

“And I won’t stay here if a single boy leaves,” 
declared Cecile, firmly. 

“A lot of good they’d be!” said Billy, con- 


212 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

temptuously. “Look at Gus — see his knees 
wiggle ? ’ 1 

“They don’t, either!” retorted that individual, 
indignantly. “I’m not as scared as you are, Billy 
Humphrey! Only we can’t see your knees 
shakin’.” 

“You look a whole lot worse, anyway,” rejoined 
the girl, with a laugh. 

“We just can’t stay here !” broke in Cecile, with 
a wail. 4 ‘ Let ’s go home. ’ ’ 

“And break the horses’ legs on that slippery 
hill?” argued Becky. There was no answer to 
that, and Cecile was silent. “Well,” continued 
the girl, “if you’re all scared to let the boys go 
after some stuff to eat, keep ’em here. I’ll go 
myself. ’ ’ 

“And I’ll go with you,” spoke up Schuyler, 
quickly. 

“You shan ’t ! ” came a new feminine wail. ‘ ‘ She 
just wants to get away! You’ve both got to stay 
right here!” 

“No, we don’t,” returned Becky, grimly. “You 
stay here, Sky. I ’ll go alone. ’ ’ 

“But the boys can’t go!” 

“Neither can she,” declared Schuyler, suddenly. 
“I’m goin’ through the house first.” 

“You mustn’t!” shrieked Lucile, catching him 


The Haunted House 


213 


around the neck. “You’ll he shot or stabbed or 
something ! I know you will ! You mustn ’t go ! ” 
‘ ‘ By golly, I ’ll make a fire, anyhow ! ’ ’ exploded 
Schuyler, tearing himself loose. “I’m not goin’ 
to stand around shiverin’ all night.” 

And, to the great alarm of all except Becky, who 
alone seemed to have a smile on her face, Schuy- 
ler relit his candle. “Come on, Captain Becky,” 
he grinned, “we’ll take a look around the place.” 

The two disappeared amid a chorus of protests 
from the three girls remaining, even Billy adding 
her voice. A moment later they reappeared, carry- 
ing the long-preserved firewood in their arms. 

“She’s stickin’ mighty close to Sky,” grinned 
Dusty to Hump. “She’s makin’ a mighty good 
bluff at not bein ’ scared, all right ! ’ ’ 

“Get the fire goin’, you two loafers,” ordered 
Becky, catching the grin. “If we’ve got to carry 
out the stuff, you can get busy making the fire. ’ ’ 
The two boys fell to work at once. Setting the 
kindling against the old, dry and crumbling log, 
Schuyler touched a match to it. The fire blazed up 
at once, sending out a pleasant warmth that 
quickly drew the shivering group around it. The 
railing and trellis work that shut in the gallery 
from the weather was largely rotted and falling 
away. Tearing away portions of this, the boys 


214 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

soon had a cheerful blaze going that promised to 
dry them out without loss of time. 

As their spirits returned, the talk of what to do 
next was resumed and an animated argument 
resulted. 

“It isn’t right to stay,” insisted Lucile at last. 
“I know father and mother won’t like it. We’ve 
got to go to the village, anyway, Sky, and — but 
where is Sky?” 

“And Becky!” exclaimed Dusty. “They’ve 
gone ! ’ ’ 

A series of calls, screams and sobs arose. 

‘ ‘ Go find them, you boys, ’ ’ cried Lucile. ‘ 4 Some- 
thing awful will happen ! ’ ’ 

“Where can we go?” returned Hump, uneasily. 
“I didn’t see ’em.” 

“Maybe they’re in there,” suggested Cecile, 
pointing with an alarmed gesture toward the dark 
hallway bedroom. 

Jack made a faltering start toward the door, 
but just then, out of the far end of the black, rain- 
swept gallery where the skeleton piano stood, 
there was the ghostly movement of a white, misty 
form, and again sounded that gruesome chord 
from the “ghost opera.” Even before the terri- 
fied group about the fire could throw themselves 
together, the ghost-like white seemed to dissolve 
and melt into the darkness of the night. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


“where’s BECKY?” 

A startled shriek went up anew from the girls. 
Hump was already poised on the top steps, afraid 
to remain and ashamed to run. Dusty and Gus 
hovered near in indecision. 

“What on earth was that thing?” muttered 
Dusty. 

“I know it was the ghost,” sobbed Lucile, break- 
ing forth anew into tears, as did Cecile. “We all 
saw it, too ! ’ ’ 

“Nonsense!” spoke up Gus, although there was 
a quaver in his voice. “There ain’t any such 
thing as ghosts. What we saw was prob ’ly an old 
newspaper or sheet or something blowing in the 
wind. ’ ’ 

“Newspapers don’t fly around up here — or 
sheets, either,” wailed Cecile. “And they don’t 
play the piano like that. I want to get away from 
here ! I know we ’ll all die ! ’ ’ 

“Don’t be foolish!” snapped Billy, decisively. 
“We’ve got a good warm fire here and I’m not 
going out into that storm again. Go on home, if 
you ’re so scared. I won ’t. ’ ’ 

215 


216 Captain Becky’ s Masquerade 

“Oh, Billy !” cried Lucile, in alarm, “I hear 
steps! The ghost is coming !” 

There was another stifled shriek from Cecile 
and a startled movement from Billy. As Jack 
started down the steps in frightened haste he col- 
lided with a dark form and fell back with a yell 
of terror. 

“Here, what’s eatin’ your’ came the voice of 
Schuyler, scornfully. “I ain’t no ghost! Get out 
of my way, you lobster ! ’ ’ 

“It’s Schuyler!” went up the cry. “Where’s 
Becky!” 

“How do I know!” retorted the boy, crowding 
forward to the warmth of the fire, where his drip- 
ping clothes began to steam. “ I ’ve been out look- 
ing after the horses. We forgot to rub ’em down. 
Isn’t Becky here!” 

“No, she’s gone,” wailed Lucile, hopelessly. 
“And the ghost was here and I just know it car- 
ried her off!” 

“Oh, shucks!” cried the boy, in disgust. 
“You’re all a bunch o’ boobies. Wait till I get 
warm, an’ we’ll find her, all right.” 

‘ 1 Mebbe she ’s in the house, ’ ’ volunteered Dusty, 
cheered by Schuyler’s appearance and evident 
scorn of the ghost. “Let’s go and find ” 

“ No ! ” cried Lucile, in alarm. “ We ’ll stay right 
here ! Don ’t you dare try to go in there ! ’ ’ 


“Where’s Becky?” 


217 


“The ghost came right out and played the piano 
in front of us,” explained Cecile, with a shudder. 
“We all saw it and heard it.” 

“Now, look here!” burst out Schuyler, losing 
patience. “You’ve got to forget this ghost busi- 
ness. You’re just a lot o’ babies! Becky’s not 
lost. Like as not she’s gone to the Corners for 
grub. She said she would. Hump, quit wabblin’ 
your knees ! Want me to knock your head off!” 

Brought down from ghostly dangers to real 
ones, Jack forgot his fear and started toward 
Schuyler threateningly. Billy caught his arm with 
a laugh. 

“Cut it out, Jack — he’s only joking.” Schuy- 
ler’s grin confirmed her words. 

“Come on,” said Dusty. “Maybe Becky is in 
the house. ’ ’ 

“Let’s all go in and beat up the ghost,” sug- 
gested Gus bravely. 

“I won’t!” cried Lucile, sharply, seconded by 
Cecile. 

“Then we’ll leave you here with the piano,” 
threatened Billy as she arose. This was too much 
and the two frightened girls got to their feet. 

“I’ll lead the way if you want to search the 
house,” volunteered Schuyler. “Where’s that 
candlestick ! ’ ’ 

He found and lit it, and then led the way to the 


218 Captain Becky’ s Masquerade 

door with the diamond panes. Behind him came 
Dusty and Jack, followed by Billy and Gus. Lucile 
and Cecile brought up the rear, trembling and 
pale-faced, tears still streaking their cheeks. 

Schuyler paused before the mantelpiece, holding 
up his candle, with a grin at the picture. 

“No use, old lady,” he exclaimed cheeringly. 
“You can’t throw any bluff into this crowd! 
We’ve got your number this time.” 

Dusty seized his arm. “What’s that noise?” 

In the dead silence of the musty old room could 
be heard a loud “tick-tick.” Schuyler glanced at 
the clock, the others following his gaze. 

“The clock’s running!” cried Billy in surprise. 
The old-fashioned pendulum was beating back and 
forth in its little square opening. 

“The ghost started it again!” declared Jack 
shrinking back. 

“Come off!” snorted Schuyler. 

“Walking around has set it goin’, maybe,” 
volunteered Gus. 

“But the hands were at twelve o’clock,” re- 
turned Schuyler in perplexity. “Now they’re at 
seven fifty. That’s just the time it is now, too,” 
he added after a glance at his watch. “That’s 
mighty queer, fellows. Ghosts can’t set clocks. 
It’s a cinch some one’s been around here. Maybe 
Becky started it.” 


“Where’s Becky?” 


219 


1 ‘ That ’s right, ’ 9 cried Hump with new courage. 
“ Spooks can’t monkey with machinery. If it 
ain’t a ghost we needn’t be scared. Come on, let’s 
go through the old place.” 

All tiptoed after Schuyler toward the farther 
door opening into the living room. Gus had now 
lit the second candle and there was no lack of 
light. As Schuyler stepped past the doorway 
there came a new sound. It seemed like a sigh, as 
if something had passed through the air in the 
upper part of the room. 

“What’s that?” gasped Billy, shrinking back 
and clutching Cecile. 

“Prob’ly a bat or somethin’ in the dark,” sug- 
gested Dusty. 

The girls trembled anew, refusing to accept his 
explanation. Even as Schuyler began a cautious 
advance, out of the air came the distinct words: 

“I died at midnight. When the clock strikes 
twelve, beware ! ’ ’ 

The words died away in a shuddering whisper 
that struck the listeners dumb with horror. Too 
frightened even to scream, the girls turned and 
fled back to the gallery, followed closely by the 
four boys. 

“Oh !” whispered Lucile, her arms around Billy 
and her head buried. “ Oh ! I ’m — I ’m afraid 9 9 

“There, there,” Billy soothed her, although her 


220 Captain Becky's Masquerade 

own face was ghastly white. Cecile was sobbing 
unrestrainedly. The boys, pale and frightened, 
stood about irresolutely, not venturing to speak. 
Even Schuyler’s assurance had departed for the 
moment. 

4 4 By golly,” he muttered at length, “no mistake 
about that, was there ? It sent my hair straight 
up!” 

“Here, too,” confessed Dusty frankly. 

“What are we going to do?” wailed Cecile 
weakly. “I’m almost starved! Is the storm 
over ? ’ ’ 

“Hot much,” asserted Hump, turning. “The 
rain isn’t so thick but it’s driving before the wind 
like everything. We’ve got to stay here I 
reckon. ’ ’ 

“We can’t go on like this, though,” declared 
Schuyler resolutely. “We haven’t had any grub 
since noon an’ I feel empty. I’m goin’ to finish 
gettin’ dry, an’ then ” 

“And then what?” inquired Lucile faintly as 
he paused. 

“G-o to the Corners and find Becky and get some 
grub,” he announced in a firm voice. 

“You can’t go away!” cried his sister in alarm. 
“Don’t let him go, Billy!” 

4 4 All right, ’ ’ and Billy calmed her quietly. 4 4 He 


“Where’s Becky?” 221 

won ’t go, dear. ’ ’ At her appealing look Schuyler, 
huddled before the fire, nodded reassuringly. 

“No, I’ll stay, Lucile,” he said soberly, to re- 
move his sister’s almost hysterical fears. 4 ‘But 
we got plenty o’ fireplaces in there, an’ prob’ly 
plenty of rooms where there ain’t any ghost. You 
girls could take one o’ them when it got warmed 
up an’ maybe we could find some clothes around 
here ” 

He was cut short by a vigorous protest from 
Cecile and Billy together. 

“Not for mine,” declared the latter firmly with 
a shake of her head. 4 4 Let the ghost wear her own 
clothes. I prefer my wet ones. ’ ’ 

“Well, we’ve got to find Becky anyway,” as- 
serted Schuyler. “What if something has hap- 
pened to her right here in the house? She may 
be shut up in one of the rooms.” 

“Who’d shut her up?” demanded Hump skep- 
tically. 4 4 The ghost ? ’ ’ 

4 4 Why she might have shut the door an’ then 
found it had a spring lock,” was Schuyler’s reply. 
4 4 Didn’t you ever read of cases like that? I have, 
lots o’ times. But I’ll bet she’s buyin’ ‘eats’ at 
the Corners.” 

“The ghost hasn’t actually hurt us, for a fact,” 
admitted Gus. The party was by this time fairly 


222 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

dry, for although a little rain blew across the gal- 
lery the thick vines shielded it well. The girls 
were more composed as they grew warmed, and 
finding that the discussion was leading nowhere, 
Schuyler sprang to his feet. 

“Well, who’ll come with me to go through the 
house ? We can try that. ’ ’ 

“I’m on, ’ ’ announced Gus relighting his candle. 

“Count me in,” said Dusty, while Hump 
nodded. But the girls at once set up a dismayed 
protest. 

“You needn’t think you’re going to leave us 
here,” cried Billy. “Come along, girls! We’ll 
all hold hands and let the boys go first. ’ ’ 

The faint protests of Lucile and Cecile were 
quickly overruled. Gus and Schuyler, with can- 
dles flaring, started bravely through the diamond- 
paned door into the dark hall. Hand in hand the 
others followed, starting afresh at every creaking 
board. 

The living room, which was sparsely furnished 
and hung with one or two old prints, opened into 
the hall. Beyond this they found a flight of stairs 
before them. As they started down the hall the 
party stopped suddenly. A faint rustle came to 
their ears. 

“What’s that?” cried Cecile in new alarm. 


“Where’s Becky?” 223 

“Sounded like clothes/’ answered Dusty wick- 
edly. “ Maybe the ghost is on the way ” 

“Nonsense!” sneered Schuyler as the party 
halted abruptly. “Ghosts don’t have clothes. 
They can’t rustle ’em, anyhow. Come along.” 

The ascent of the stairway was stealthily be- 
gun, the two candles throwing a weird, flickering 
light over the curious pictured wallpaper and 
darkened steps. The stairs creaked underfoot 
and the air was close and musty but there were 
no further ghostly signs and the girls gradually 
plucked up some courage. 

“My, what a big hall!” cried Billy as the land- 
ing above came into sight. 

“More pictures, too,” added Schuyler holding 
up his candle. ‘ 1 There ’s the old fellow that built 
the house, prob’ly.” 

He pointed to a large portrait at the head of the 
stairs directly facing them. It represented a sol- 
dier in a revolutionary uniform, his hair powdered 
and tied behind in a cue and his face not ill-look- 
ing. The lower part of the frame had dropped 
away and cobwebs dimmed the features. Beyond 
this picture hung an old English color print, show- 
ing a coaching scene. 

“Just think of that fine old painting rotting 
away here!” exclaimed Cecile indignantly, her 
taste for art getting the better of her fears. She 


224 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

brushed away some of the cobwebs and examined 
the portrait more closely. 

“That’s a good lookin’ sword he’s got on,” de- 
clared Schuyler. ‘ ‘ Let ’s be movin ’ along. ’ ’ 

“There’s a big picture over there,” exclaimed 
Gus as the party turned from the man’s portrait. 

Across the hall stood an oblong frame of 
dimmed gold. In it was another portrait, that of 
a woman garbed almost as the figure in the bed- 
room painting had been dressed and nearly life 
size. Little cries of surprised delight went up 
from the three girls. 

A wide sweeping hat almost concealed the face 
of the figure and, from a high waisted gown of 
flowered silk, the skirts spread out like a para- 
chute. It was a three-fourths figure, the feet of 
the subject not showing. 

A black Spanish shawl was draped over the 
shoulders of the woman, whose back was partly 
turned. One white, rounded arm extended to the 
side. In the exposed hand was what seemed to be 
a closed fan of ivory. 

The little band of adventurers, still trembling 
from their last fright, paused in admiration. Gus 
advanced with his candle aloft while the others 
followed, their eyes straining to catch the details 
of the attractive picture. 

“Must ’a’ been a swell dame, ” volunteered Jack. 


“Where's Becky f” 


225 


“Certainly aristocratic , ' 7 whispered Lucile in 
open admiration, almost forgetting to be afraid. 

‘ 6 Look at that arm, ’ ' exclaimed Schuyler. 
“That's some paintin'! I guess it’s the old lady 
when she was a girl. ’ ' 

“It's a half-Colonial costume,' ' added Cecile, 
“or rather, before the war. Isn't it lovely, 
Billy?" 

“Beautiful!" added that person, half closing 
her eyes critically. “I only wish it showed more 
of her face." 

“Why don't you girls wear dresses like that?" 
inquired Dusty from behind. “I reckon that's 
what you call a real blue-blood ! ' ' 

4 ‘ English, maybe, ' ' said Gus, remembering him- 
self and assuming his old pose. “I beg your 
pahdon, girls, but I must take off my hat to the 
‘ Lady with the Fan. ' She 's ahbsolutely a peach ! ' ' 

As he spoke he stepped closer to better light the 
dim figure. Then he held the candle high. As he 
lifted his half-dried sombrero with his other hand 
and bowed he gave a sharp cry as of pain. At the 
same moment his candle dropped and in the deep- 
ened gloom, Gus gave a second startled yell and 
sprang for the stairs. No one waited to ask what 
had happened. As the boy reached the stairs and 
plunged down them three steps at a time, the girls 
followed in a panic of new shrieks and moans. 


226 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

Dusty, thrown off his feet by the rush of startled, 
shivering girls, bumped into Hump and both went 
sprawling into a corner. The girls scrambled 
downstairs in mad haste. Schuyler alone kept his 
head, following more slowly and lighting the way 
with his candle. 

When the front porch was reached again fear 
gave way to what was almost hysterics. 

“It hit me,” gasped G-us as he partly recovered 
his breath. “She smashed me on the cheek with 
that fan!” 

“It hit you?” repeated Schuyler grasping the 
panting boy by the shoulder. 4 ‘ What ? 9 9 

‘ ‘ She smashed you ? ’ ’ broke in Dusty rubbing a 
bruised elbow. “You’re gone crazy. Who’s 
she?” 

4 ‘ The picture ! ’ ’ explained Gus, shaking himself 
loose from Sky. “I tell you it did — right on the 
jaw — the fan!” 

“How could it?” demanded Billy making her 
way forward. “I didn’t see anything. I was 
watching ! ’ ’ 

4 ‘ I tell you it did or she did, ’ ’ protested the dis- 
traught Gus. “Don’t I know?” he shouted an- 
grily. “Couldn’t I feel it? Right here!” The 
almost shivering boy pointed to his right cheek. 

“Not a mark,” announced Schuyler as he held 
his candle close. “Folks,” he added with a smile, 


“Where’s Becky?” 


227 


“something’s got to be done with this guy. He’s 
out of his head. Unless,” and his face sobered, 
“ there is a ghost, after all.” 

“Ghost or not I got a whack,” persisted Gus. 
“If you don’t believe me why don’t you all go back 
and try it yourself?” 

“ I ’ll go, ’ ’ announced Schuyler. But there were 
no volunteers, although, taking Gus’ dead candle 
he relit it and started toward the empty hallway. 

“You shan’t,” moaned Lucile. “Oh, it’s terri- 
ble. What shall we do?” Then throwing her 
arms about Billy she buried her head on the other 
girl’s shoulder. The storm still continued and 
even seemed to be growing worse. By this time 
the roads would be impassable for the horses and 
even the girls could see the impossibility of trying 
to proceed home. 

“Oh, it’s awful,” moaned Lucile. “The house 
is haunted. ’ ’ 

“It’s worse than haunted,” added Cecile de- 
spairingly. “It’s a regular chamber of horrors! 
What will we do ? ” 

“Couldn’t one of us go down to the village and 
telephone over to Besteasy?” suggested Jack. 
“Or over to my folks. They’re sure to be worried 
about us. They could send a car. ’ ’ 

“Sure, that’s the ” began Dusty, but Billy 

interrupted him. 


228 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“ Yon ’ll stay right here, all of you,” she de- 
clared firmly. ‘ ‘ Build up this fire and we ’ll sit by 
it until the storm blows over. Maybe Becky ’ll be 
back soon.” 

Schuyler did not argue. He at once gathered 
more of the broken and rotted trellis, while Jack 
and Gus went to the barn to feed the horses and 
find more wood if possible. 


CHAPTER XIX 


A RESCUE. 

“Well, this isn’t so bad,” announced Dusty a 
little later. The party was sitting around the 
blazing fire — the boys having found some split 
wood in the barn — and all were dry and comfort- 
able. The girls were somewhat drowsy and as no 
further tokens of the ghost’s presence had been 
heard or seen they had regained their customary 
spirits. 

“If we only had something to do,” continued the 
boy, “we could make the time fly a heap quicker. 
I wonder if there are any cards inside?” 

“Go and see if you want to,” returned Hump 
dryly. “I’m satisfied.” 

“I’m worryin ’ about Becky, ’ ’ said Gus. * ‘ Why 
don’t she come back?” 

“Don’t ask,” shuddered Cecile with a nervous 
glance around. “I’m afraid to think about it.” 

“Oh, shucks!” exclaimed Schuyler. “She’s 
prob’ly been waitin’ for the rain to let up. I ex- 
pect she ’s on the way back now. ’ ’ 

“But she didn’t go out this way!” returned 
Lucile despairingly. 


229 


230 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“Well, ain’t there other doors to the old 
house ? ’ 9 retorted her brother sharply. 6 6 You girls 
give me a pain . 9 9 

“That’ll be enough from you, Sky,” said Billy 
heatedly. “You’re the one that drew us into this 
thing, anyway. It ’s all your fault if anything has 
happened to Becky. ’ ’ 

“What!” exclaimed the amazed Schuyler. 
“Well, I like that ! If it hadn’t been for me you’d 
all be out in the storm, soaked to the skin, by this 
time. Then you go and shoot all the blame on 
me — just like a girl ! ’ ’ 

“Anyway, something must have happened to 
Becky,” announced Lucile. “She isn’t here, and 
you’re the one that’s responsible for our being 
here.” 

Schuyler began a heated response but at that 
instant something drew the attention of all from 
the dispute. From the road came the joyous toot- 
ing of an automobile horn ! 

There was a unanimous yell from the party. As 
the boys leaped up the strong twin lights of a car 
flashed into view from the gallery. 

“It’s coming in here!” cried Cecile. 

1 1 Hurrah ! ’ ’ shouted Gus dashing out. ‘ ‘ That ’s 
no ghost, anyway ! ’ ’ 

The boys darted out in the rain while the three 
girls, in excited suspense, waited together at the 


A Rescue 


231 


head of the gallery steps. The big car came slowly 
up the drive and at length stopped. Nothing could 
be seen of it in the darkness. Then a fresh shout 
went up from Schuyler and a voice sounded from 
the car. 

‘ 4 Hello, everyone !” 

“It’s Becky!” yelled Schuyler and Dusty to- 
gether. 

“Becky?” chorused the girls joyously. 

“That’s who,” announced Becky herself run- 
ning from the car to the gallery with a quick dash 
and throwing her arms around Lucile. Amid the 
exclamations of delight that arose a second and 
much larger figure followed the girl. 

“Oh, father!” Lucile ’s cry betrayed who he 
was. Throwing off his wrappings in the shelter 
of the porch Mr. Hatton gazed around with ap- 
proval. 

“Everyone all right? This isn’t a bad place 
you ’ve found, here ! Becky has told me all about 
it.” 

“Oh, it’s horrible!” interrupted Lucile with a 
shudder. “We’re all afraid of our lives ” 

“There’s a real ghost!” broke in some one in 
an awed whisper. 

‘ 4 A ghost ? ’ ’ Mr. Hatton ’s hearty laugh seemed 
to dispel some of their fears almost by itself. 

‘ ‘ Come ! Tell me about it ! ” 


232 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“But how did you and Becky come? Tell us 
that first,” replied Lucile. Becky made answer 
herself. 

“I slipped off down to the village to telephone 
and get something to eat,” was her reply. “I 
found that Mr. Hatton had left the farm to look 
for us with the car. So I waited at the village 
and called up everybody, tellin’ them we were all 
right. Then Mr. Hatton came and I brought him 
out here. ’ ’ 

“Before we hear this ghost story,” said Mr. 
Hatton with something like a twinkle in his eye, 
‘ ‘ let ’s get matters arranged. Louis ! 9 ’ 

“Yes, m’sieu,’ ? answered the chauffeur respect- 
fully. He, too, was standing before the fire. 

“You and Schuyler had better take all the 
horses down to the village,” returned Mr. Hatton. 
4 ‘ You ’d better help them, Dustin. Put them in the 
livery there until we can send for them from the 
farm. Then get whatever you can find to eat and 
hurry back.” 

When Louis and the two boys had departed Mr. 
Hatton turned cheerily to the others. 

“You have to thank Captain Becky for your 
rescue,” he chuckled. “If we hadn’t found her at 
the village we might have gone chasing all over 
the mountain after you!” 

“Oh, you’d have found us all right,” disputed 


A Rescue 


233 


Jack carelessly. “We’d have gone down to the 
village before, only the girls wouldn’t let us, so 
Becky slipped away. They’re all scared of the 
ghost. ’ ’ 

‘ 4 They!” repeated Billy with some scorn. 
‘ < Well, I like that ! If I was as scared as you were, 
Jack Humphrey ” 

4 ‘ Here, here, no family rows!” laughed Mr. 
Hatton. “Now tell me the ghost story.” 

The recital began and, after each of the party 
had added his quota of incident and detail, the 
story was finally finished. Before its conclusion 
Louis and the boys returned from the Corners, 
laden with parcels. 

“We had to wake the whole blamed village to 
find the storekeeper,” grinned Dusty. “We got 
enough grub, I guess.” 

“Well,” said Mr. Hatton, “I’m not going to 
stay out on this open gallery. The storm can’t 
last much longer. Louis and I will open up the 
house, unless you’re all too frightened to go with 
us?” 

The girls hesitated, but fears could not linger 
under the genial smile of Mr. Hatton, and the 
party unanimously prepared to accompany him. 
The two candles were found and lighted. Another 
was obtained from the living room, and the party 
started to explore the lower floor of the house. 


234 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“What a perfectly beautiful dining room!” 
cried Cecile, as they entered the third room be- 
yond the living room. “Look at the old china on 
the plate-rail! There ’s some old Chelsea — and 
some real old Blue Willow Oh ” 

“I’m more interested in the kitchen just now,” 
laughed Becky. “Come on, folks!” 

And she dashed ahead of the party, only to stop 
with a cry of delight. The kitchen was a low- 
ceilinged, raftered room, with a wood range, its 
fire all laid. Pots and pans hung around the walls, 
dusty but still speckless of dirt or rust. The back 
door was opened to let the room air while the 
girls, finding some cloths, began to dust things. 

The bundles of provisions were opened and 
Louis started the fire. Schuyler built a fire in the 
front bedroom and by the time the “snack” was 
ready the old house began to be almost cozy. 

“Well, if you’re all ready now, let’s go hunting 
for the ghost,” smiled Mr. Hatton at length. 

“The ghost!” cried Lucile, “I’d forgotten all 
about it!” 

The fears of all had now fled entirely and it took 
only a little urging to induce them to go upstairs. 
Finally the procession started off gayly and on 
reaching the top of the stairs everyone looked 
toward the picture. A shriek of surprise arose 
from the girls. The picture was gone ! 


A Rescue 


235 


“ That’s funny,’ ’ exclaimed Dusty, a trifle pale. 
“It was there a while ago, all right, an’ now only 
the frame’s left! What do you make o’ that, Mr. 
Hatton ! ’ ’ 

Before he could answer Becky darted across the 
hall and vanished in one of the rooms beyond. 

“ Wait a minute, ’ ’ her voice floated back. “ I ’ve 
got something to show you. ’ ’ 

Mr. Hatton looked at Schuyler. That young 
man was grinning shamelessly. While the others 
discussed the strange disappearance of the pic- 
ture, Schuyler motioned to Gus, who had the other 
candle, and the two spoke together for a moment. 
Their shadows threw the corner holding the frame 
into deep gloom. When the two boys separated, 
a second frightened cry arose from the girls — 
for the “Lady of the Fan” was again in place! 

“I’m going back down,” exclaimed Lucile, grip- 
ping her father’s arm tightly. “Don’t stay up 
here ! ’ ’ 

Mr. Hatton only laughed as Cecile added her 
pleas to those of his daughter while Jack and 
Dusty, looking somewhat alarmed, edged toward 
the stairs and Gus slowly backed. 

“Don’t you recognize her?” shouted Schuyler 
with a yell of laughter when he could hold in no 
longer. ‘ ‘ Lift up your hat, Becky ! ’ ’ 

To the astonishment of the party the girl in the 


236 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

picture threw back her head and disclosed the 
features of Captain Becky ! For a moment every- 
one stood speechless. Then the boys gave a shout 
and rushed forward. But Schuyler was ahead of 
them. 

‘ ‘No you don’t !” he cried, pushing them back 
while Mr. Hatton came forward with a hearty 
laugh. ‘ i Come on down, Becky ! ’ 9 

The girl stepped from the frame and advanced 
toward the girls. Even then they shrank back and 
not until Becky laughed and gave her old familiar 
gesture did they seem fully to realize the im- 
posture. 

‘ ‘ Oh, how could you ! 9 9 exclaimed Lucile, while 
Billy burst into a laugh and seized Becky’s hand. 

‘ ‘I didn’t mean to scare you so much, really,” 
protested Becky with a flirt of her fan at Gus. 
“I’m sorry Lucile ” 

“Oh, pshaw!” cried the latter, throwing her 
arms around Becky. “Why, you look perfectly 
grown-up! We’ll have to have a masquerade and 
you must wear that costume! Not a soul will 
know you ! ’ ’ 

Cecile did not give in so readily but presently 
she, too, accepted the joke and joined in the un- 
restrained laughter of the others. 

“Well, you certainly handed it to us that time,” 
admitted Jack somewhat confusedly. 


A Rescue 


237 


i ‘ Oh, you ‘ Lady with the Fan ’ ! 1 7 cried Gus more 
gracefully. “I’ve got to take off my hat to you in 
dead earnest this time!” And Becky acknowl- 
edged the action with a laughing courtesy. 

‘ ‘ Say, were you in on the game all the time ? 9 7 
demanded Dusty suddenly turning on the grin- 
ning Schuyler. 

‘ 4 Sure I was!” replied the boy. 

‘ 4 What ! ’ , cried his sister in astonishment. ‘ ‘ Did 
you know all about it? I'll never forgive you.” 

“But how about the other things?” broke in 
Cecile. “The piano and the footsteps and the 
voice and the ghost out on the gallery ? ’ ’ 

“That was me, too,” answered Becky ungram- 
matically but happily. “I was all alone out there 
and I thought of that piece — the only thing I ever 
learned to play. Then I slipped back into the liv- 
ing room. I got a broom there and made the taps 
by reaching up to the rafters.” 

“Then you started the clock of course?” in- 
quired Billy. Becky nodded. 

“I found the key on top of the mantelpiece. 
That was when I went in with Sky for the fire- 
wood.” 

“But where did you hide?” asked Lucile in sur- 
prise. “And how did you get down to the Cor- 
ners? We were on the porch all the time and 
didn’t see you!” 


238 Captain Becky’s Masquerade 

“Well,” explained Becky with a laugh, “when 
Sky and I left the second time we started up here 
to explore. We went into the front room there,” 
and she pointed toward an open door, ‘ 4 and found 
a lot of clothes. I put them on meaning to go down 
like that.” 

“Then we found the empty frame,” interposed 
Schuyler eagerly. “Captain Becky posed for me 
in it an’ she looked so real that I told her to wait 
an’ we’d have some fun. An’ we did, too,” he 
added with a chuckle. 

“Then you were the ghost that we saw on the 
gallery?” asked Cecile. 

“Sure!” Becky nodded again. “When I was 
dressin’ I found an opening for heat, in the floor. 
It opened down into the living room. When I 
heard you starting for here the first time I 
couldn’t help calling down about dying at mid- 
night. I didn ’t think I ’d fool you so bad when you 
all got up here, hut ” 

She ended in a peal of laughter as she looked 
at Gus and the latter joined in ruefully. 

“But that doesn’t explain about your meeting 
father, ’ ’ cried Lucile. 

“Oh, after you chased down I changed clothes 
and ran out the back door. I saw you all on the 
gallery, half scared to death, and then I went 
down and met Mr. Hatton. ’ ’ 


A Rescue 


239 


4 4 Well, we’d better get downstairs, ’ ’ laughed 
Mr. Hatton, turning to the staircase. 4 4 There’s 
nothing to be seen up here except clothes and it 
sounds as if the rain had stopped. If it has, we 
can clean up the kitchen and start for home. Oh, 
wait a minute ! Here ’s a note for you, Becky, that 
came just before I left, so I brought it along. It’s 
from the Record .” 

With an eager exclamation Becky seized it and 
held it to the light of the candles. Another ex- 
clamation followed, this time one of joy, as the 
girl looked up. 

4 4 Good news?” smiled Mr. Hatton. For an in- 
stant Becky was about to blurt out her story. 
Then she caught herself and stopped abruptly. 

4 4 Yes,” she replied happily, thrusting the note 
into her waist, “it’s from Lewis. He says that 
Mr. Downs said his write-up of the carnival was a 
peach, that he’s learning fast and maybe he’ll get 
a raise. I ’m glad he ’s making good ! ’ ’ 

4 4 So are we,” answered Mr. Hatton. 44 I hope 
he ’ll succeed. Well, all aboard for the kitchen ! ’ ’ 

Becky lingered behind the others, her arm 
around Lucile’s waist. 

4 4 You aren’t angry about it, are you?” she 
whispered. 

4 4 Angry!” repeated Lucile. 4 4 Why, I should 
say not ! I think you were the dearest, sweetest 


240 Captain Becky ’ s Masquerade 

little century-old girl I ever heard of! I don’t 
believe I ever could get angry at you, Becky 
dear!” 

And as the two girls descended the stairs to- 
gether the voice of Schuyler floated back to them. 

4 4 Tell you what, Dusty, boys ain’t got so much 
on the girls after all, when it comes to running up 
against a real ghost!” 

4 4 That’s right,” admitted Dusty and Lucile gave 
Becky a delighted little hug. 

4 4 And what do you think of Captain Becky’s 
Masquerade ? ’ ’ laughed back Mr. Hatton. 

The shout that went up was sufficient reply. 





The Aunt Jane’s Nieces 
Series 

BOOKS FOR GIRLS 
By EDITH VAN DYNE 

SEVEN TITLES 

Aunt Jane's Nieces 
A unt Jane's Nieces A broad 
Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville 
A unt Jane's Nieces at Work 
A unt Jane's Nieces in Society 
Aunt Jane's Nieces and Uncle John 
Aunt Jane's Nieces on Vacation 


rySTINCTLY girls’ 
books and yet stories 
that will appeal to brother 
as well — and to older 
folk. Real and vital — 
rousing stories of the experiences and ex- 
ploits of three real girls who do things. 
Without being sensational, Mrs. Van Dyne has 
succeeded in writing a series of stories that 
have the tug and stir of fresh young blood 
in them. Each story is complete in itself. 

Illustrated i2mo. Uniform cloth binding , 
stamped in colors , with beautiful colored inlay. 

Fancy colored jackets. Price 60 cents each 



Publishers The Reilly & Britton Co. Chicago 


Exhilarating Books for Girls of Today 


The Flying Girl Series 

By EDITH VAN DYNE 

Author of “ Aunt Jane's Nieces” Series 

CAPITAL up-to-the-minute stories for girls and young 
VJ people, in which the author is at her very best. Thrilling 
and full of adventure, but of that wholesome type par- 
ents are glad to put in the hands of their daughters. Two 
titles: 

The Flying Girl 

Orissa Kane, self-reli- 
ant and full of sparkling 
good nature, under-study 
for her brother, prospec- 
tive inventor and aviator 
whose experiments put 
the Kane family into 
great difficulties, in the 
crisis proves resourceful 
and plucky, and saves 
the day in a most thrill- 
ing manner. 

The Flying Girl 
and Her Chum 

This story takes Orissa 
and her friend Sybil 
through further adventures that test these two clever girls 
to the limit. A remarkably well told story. 

i2mo. Bound in extra cloth with design stamp- 
ing on cover and fancy jacket. Printed on high 
grade paper. Illustrated in black and white. 

Price 60 cents each. Postage 12 cents. 



Publishers The Reilly & Britton Co. Chicago 


ANNABEL 

By SUSANNE METCALF 

A GIRLS’ book with a clever, quick-mov- 
ing plot is unusual. ANNABEL is 
that kind. The heroine is a lovable girl, 
but one with plenty of snap — her red hair 
testifies to that. Her friend, Will Carden, 
too, is a boy of unusual 
qualities, as is apparent 
in everything he does. 

He and Annabel make 
an excellent team. 

The two, the best of 
chums, retrieve the for- 
tunes of the Carden 
family in a way that 
makes some exciting 
situations. The secret 
of the mysterious Mr. 

Jordan is surprised by 
Annabel, while Will, in 
a trip to England with an unexpected cli- 
max, finds the real fortune of the Cardens. 

ANNABEL is a book whose make-up is 
in keeping with the high quality of the story. 

Beautiful" cover and jacket in colors , 12 mo. Illustra- 
ted by Joseph Pierre Nuyttens. Price 60 cents 



Publishers The Reilly & Britton Co. Chicago 


Books for Older Children byL. Frank Baum 


The Daring Twins Series 

By L. FRANK BAUM 

I N writing “The Daring 
Twins Series” Mr. Baum 
yielded to the hundreds of 
requests that have been 
made of him by youngsters, 
both boys and girls, who in 
their early childhood read 
and loved his famous “Oz” 
books, to write a story for 
young folk of the ages be- 
tween twelve and eighteen. 

A story of the real 
life of real boys and 
girls in a real family 
under real conditions 

Two Titles: 

The Daring Twins 
Phoebe Daring 

While preparing these books Mr. Baum lived with 
his characters. They have every element of the 
drama of life as it begins within the lives of children. 
The two stories are a mixture of the sublime and 
the ridiculous; the foibles and fancies of childhood, 
interspersed with humor and pathos. 

Price , $1.00 each 



Publishers The Reilly & Britton Co. Chicago 


An Ideal Book for Young Travelers 


Travel Notes Abroad 

MY OWN RECORD 



I T WOULD be hard to imagine a girl who does not want 
a real record of the ecstatic joys of her first glimpses of 
foreign lands. This very attractive book is the first of its 
kind, and will be found to provide for every kind of an 
experience that comes to young American travelers. 

There are departments for recording the itinerary, the 
events of the trip across, friends met, autographs, expenses, 
different general divisions for the various countries, places 
to keep a memorandum of hotels where the travelers stayed, 
also of restaurants, shops, galleries, and purchases, the 
return trip, etc., etc. 


TRAVEL NOTES ABROAD is profusely illustrated 
and decorated in two colors with striking cover design, and 
inclosed in a box. Price, cloth, $ 1.50 ; leather, $3.00. 


Publishers The Reilly & Britton Co. Chicago 



A Novelty Every Girl Wants 

The Girl Graduate 

HER OWN BOOK 

I N WHICH to keep the happy record of 
her last year at school or college — a book 
she will keep and prize always. 

There is a place for everything dear to 
the girl graduate’s heart and memory — 
class flower, color, yell, motto, photographs, 
jokes and frolics. 

Departments for social events, officers, 
teachers, invitations, baccalaureate sermon, 
programmes, presents, press notices, class 
prophecy and various “doings.” 

The Girl Graduate is equally appro- 
priate for young girls leaving grade or high 
schools and their older sisters who have 
“finished” at college or boarding school. It 
makes a suitable present at any season of 
the year. 

FIFTEENTH EDITION. Revised and Improved 
Dainty designs in delicate colorings on pearl gray sta- 
tionery. Cover to match, with a trellis of roses in tints 
and decorations in gold. 

8 vo. 200 pages. Decorated on every page. Each book 
put up in an attractive gray box. Price $1.50. Swiss 
velvet ooze, price $2.50. Full leather, gold edges, De 
Luxe edition, price $3.00. Commencement edition , 
crushed levant, price $6.00. 

Publishers The Reilly & Britton Co. Chicago 



JUL 29 





» 













































• 


































































' 






























